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YANK— THE 
CRUSADER 

By ^>0 

EARL C. VAN ZAi^DT/ iXOS" 



DENVER, COLORADO, AUGUST, 1919 


©CU528657 

MfbordOk'^. 



AMERICA'S SONS 






Sfiiiratfli to 
tifp brattp motty^ro of 
Amprtra’a aona totfo Ijaop 
b^rn rallrb upon to maka tl;^ 
aupr^uta aarrifiw ou 
tija battbfiplba 
of 3Franra 



CONTENTS 


Chapter Page 

1. The Rancher Boy — A Man of Destiny . . 13 
n. A Newspaper Does Fred a Good Turn. . 19 
m. Christy Strong 27 

IV. The World Unrest and the War Cloud. . 33 

V. The Volunteer 40 

VT. The Double Challenge 49 

VII. Fredas Trip at Uncle Sam’s Expense. . . 56 

Vni. Christy Strong Drafted and His Trip to 

Camp 65 

IX. Christy Finds a New Democracy in the 

Army 76 

X. Christy Strong Meets Fred Sheldon 91 

XI. A Campfire With Yank 105 

Xn. Rush to and at Point of Embarkation. . .119 
Xm. The Shove-Off 135 

XIV. Trip Across Atlantic in an Army Trans- 
port ..147 

XV. The War Spirit of Great Britain 162 

XVT. Yank Seeing France From a Boxcar 

Pullman 177 

XVn. Training Behind the Front 187 

XVIIL The Religion of the Front 201 

XIX. Routing the Hun — And Fred’s Destiny. 211 

XX. The Armistice 224 

XXI. The Home-coming of the Crusaders Who 

Fought and Won 238 


ft 


I 


Introduction 


/ HIS BOOK is written upon the foundation of 
three ideals. The first is to convey to the 
American public a birdseye view of Yank^s life and 
experience from the peaceful fireside to the heU-Uke 
no man’s land. 

The second ideal is to bring to the reader a vivid 
picture of Yank adapting himself to the new condi- 
tions of army life. 

The last ideal is to show what this war has meant 
to our nation, bringing unforeseen good to the in- 
dividual citizen, and the country in general. 

It has seemed wise to divide the book into three 
parts. Part One includes the first six chapters which 
deal with the peacetime environments of our heroes. 

The next six chapters or Part Two, are used to 
describe and portray Yank in the training camps of 
the United States, the underlying principle being to 
show how the pooling of personalities has perfected 
a new and better Democracy. 

The last nine chapters, or Part Three, are written 
with the hope of bringing the life ''over there” and 
the actualities of the battlefield to the folks who 
could not be there. 

A love story is connected to the Uves of most of 
the Yanks, and, as mother and sweetheart at home 
deserve the credit for inspiring our men into doing 
deeds of bravery, this book would be incomplete 
without a touch of romance. 

Therefore, I have chosen to write this in the 
form of a love story, adding touches of army life 
as the book progresses. 

Private Earl C. Van Zandt. 


YANK— THE CRUSADER 




PART I 


CHAPTER I 

THE RANCHER BOY— A MAN OF DESTINY 

The greatest race of all, the human race, goes 
ahead in spite of all the uses and abuses that man 
makes of it. 

A number of years ago in one of the largest 
cities of our country there lived a man by the name 
of Sheldon, who for some reason, became possessed 
of the money-making demon at a very young age. 

The explanation of his lust for the glittering, 
yellow stuff may be found in the fact that his father 
was a poor minister and unable to give his son any 
of the luxuries of life. 

Most lads of his age just naturally acquire the 
hobby for disliking school. Noel finished the fourth 
grade. His dad made many promises and threats 
in order to reconcile his son to the school-going 
notion. One of the traits of the Sheldon family is 
bulldog determination and the boy had it, much to 
his sorrow and undoing. 

Young Noel Sheldon, living in a big metropolis, 
could see all the luxuries and artificial beauty that 
money could buy. This knowledge gave him a 
hankering for them. Early in his life the money- 
making bee started to buzz in his head and just as 
early he took to the newspaper game. 

Noel was quick to learn and early in his new 
vocation he learned to judge when a man wanted a 
newspaper long before the customer would motion 
for the newsies. This foresight on the part of the 
boy soon made him the best newsy in the city and 


14 


Yank — The Crusader 


even the attentions of the head men of the news- 
paper were attracted by this ambitions young 
lad. It was not long until Noel was climbing 
the ladder of fame in the newspaper game and also 
feathering his nest with a golden lining. 

Years passed, and this determined, ambitious, 
self-centered Noel Sheldon came into his manhood, 
unquestionably a shrewd money-getter and truly a 
valuable man for the corporations that saw fit to 
make use of him. 

His eagerness for wealth carried with it a num- 
ber of careless habits that by degrees were wrecking 
his physical and moral life. Beauty to him was 
merely a thing. His slight body was fast losing its 
grip with health. 

For some unknown reason a fine young lady with 
the noblest of ideals and womanly traits fell 
heiress to a married life with such a miser as Noel 
Sheldon. Love does funny tricks. Who can tell 
whether Providence showed some super-knowledge 
when the two were made man and wife! 

One cold December morning there came a child 
into the apartment of the Sheldons. But the 
little babe was not long for this world, and when 
it passed away Mr. Sheldon began to realize for the 
first time the richness of the treasure in the Big 
Pleading Brown Eyes of his wife. She had been 
pleading with him from the very first to give up 
his quest for gold and search for the great joy and 
genuine pleasure in life which comes from un- 
selfish Christian living. 

The death of his first bom had a tendency to 
sour him even more on all the things worth while, 
if such a thing could be possible. Night after night 
unconsciously he sought the treasure in the Big 
Pleading Brown Eyes of his wife. Each day and 


15 


The Rancher Boy — a Man of Destiny 

every hour of the day his well-meaning wife prayed 
for a change in her husband. Sometimes she felt 
like giving up, but now and then she was encouraged 
to carry on with her prayers when she often heard 
Noel speak a noble thought. 

He could not reconcile himself to the new 
ideals that filled his mind. It was not until the 
panic of 1893 had taken the greater portion 
of his wealth and the major portion of his health 
that he began to realize that gold was only for this 
world, and the treasure in those Big Pleading Brown 
Eyes offered a life beyond the grave. 

Death was opening its horrible gates to him when 
Noel Sheldon, with a convicted past staring him in 
the face, finally gave in to those Big Pleading Brown 
Eyes. He said, ^^Dear wife,^^ and it was a bit of 
an effort for him to say ‘^dear,’^ ‘‘If God spares me 
I will serve Him and go out to that Golden West 
you speak of in search of happiness and health.’^ 

Several weeks later Sheldon improved suffi- 
ciently to travel. True to his word, he took his wife 
on the first train west, not at all worried as to where 
his ticket would take him. Determination marked 
Noel Sheldon’s battle for health and happiness in 
the same degree of intensity as he waged his fight 
for gold and riches. 

The story of the success and development of his 
ranch in Western Oklahoma is a long and unnec- 
essary story. With great foresight he selected a fine 
cattle range over forty miles from the little town of 
Fargo, the closest railroad center. 

On April 3, 1898, in a neat home down on the 
prettiest spot on the meadow, while the eastern sun 
was peeking over the hills, another light came into 
the world. A babe as chubby and healthy as you 
please blessed that home. 


16 


Yank — The Crusader 


You could almost see the boy grow, and Mother 
Sheldon was very busy making clothes to keep up 
with her chubby pride and joy. 

A family riot almost took place when it came to 
naming the boy. Dad and maw went round and 
round and it is hard to tell what might have hap- 
pened but for the hired man, who suggested calling 
the kid Fred. Mrs. Sheldon was pleased because 
her favorite brother’s name was Fred. It was two 
against one and so dear dad had to content himself 
with a hope of naming someone or something else. 

Fred was not four years old when he started to 
ride horses. The hired man bragged, ‘‘In ten years 
I allow Fred will outride anyun in this yere coun- 
try ” Old Pete would invariably shift his weight 
from one foot to the other as he made his brag and 
then suffix the sentence with that old familiar 
phrase, “By Heck!” 

Mrs. Sheldon taught Fred his A, B, C’s when the 
boy was six years old. Pete “Allowed that the little 
brat was a seer when it came to figuring. ’ ’ The ex- 
pression “brat” on the part of Pete was merely 
admiration of his clever young protege. 

Old Pete’s great indoor sport was to spend hours 
telling of the boy-wonder at the Sheldon ranch. He 
might have lost his job sometime ago but for 
his ability to puff up the chest of Dad Sheldon by 
singing praises of Fred. Truly, Fred was a remark- 
able boy and deserved much praise. 

Christmas day, 1902, was a happy one at the 
Sheldon ranch. A present came to them in the form 
of a new bundle of life, a brother to Fred. 

Jim, as the newcomer was called, was the first 
playmate our little hero had outside of old 
Scotch, the faithful collie dog of the ranch. The 
dog lost his usefulness as a cattle dog because 


17 


The Rancher Boy — a Man of Destiny 

his attentions were changed to Fred. One of 
Fred’s childhood habits was to climb to the 
top of the corral fence and sit there for hours 
as if communing with the gods. Below Fred at his 
feet lay Scotch, watching every movement of his 
master, always on the alert to meet any emergency 
that might endanger his little pal. Fred, Jim and 
Scotch were always together. 

The parents of our hero planned to send him to 
school and finally give him a college education, but 
when Fred was six years old Mr. Sheldon passed 
away. So Fred was kept at home with his mother, 
who now managed the affairs of the ranch. 

The playdays of our hero were cut short. 

As the years went by he proved that as far as 
running the ranch was concerned no one could beat 
him. He produced fine results and as an authority 
on cattle he was as good as the best and was always 
square in his dealings. 

Fred loved the outdoor life and it loved him. 
He was kind to all his fellowmen and the same to 
the helpless animals. He never compromised when 
challenged; he planned his fight and with the Shel- 
don determination fought his plan to a victory. 

Not far from Fred’s home but over the hills and 
off the road to town lived Molly McByde, one of the 
sweetest blue-eyed Irish maidens in the Golden West. 

Mother McByde, the mother of Molly and a native 
of the Emerald Isle, a woman of the highest char- 
acter, was obliged to take in washing to keep herself 
and sick husband alive. They were advised to go 
west and live in the country so that they might im- 
prove Mr. McByde ’s health. 

The homestead idea welcomed them into Okla- 
homa. They took advantage of the government’s 
offer and with the little they had saved up man- 


18 


Yank — The Crusader 


aged to build a frame shack and buy several cows, 
a mare, a few pigs and some chickens. Good fortune 
smiled upon their little investment and they man- 
aged to live comfortably, and as a crowning glory 
a darling baby girl came to make her home with 
them. 

The babe, Molly, grew up under the good care of 
her mother. Like Fred Sheldon, she had no play- 
mates. Her hobby was to gather the various colored 
flowers and decorate the little shack, and she soon 
learned to make herself useful around the home. 

Molly ^s education was neglected in the namby- 
pamby things of the city life, but no one could cook 
a better dinner than she when she had reached her 
fourteenth year. The hard work in her early life 
had not taken from her the beauty of youth. 

So we find her in her nineteenth year — the year 
that she and Fred first met — a crowning example of 
radiant womanhood. 


CHAPTER n 

A NEWSPAPER DOES FRED A GOOD TURN 

Unreasonable as it might seem, Fred and Molly 
had never met before they had grown np. Their 
meeting came about as the result of a very singular 
incident. 

Molly ^s hobby was gathering flowers. Not far 
from her home and on a little winding 
brook, where an old cow-trail crossed, lay Molly ^s 
fancied spot. A giant tree of the meadows 
stood at one end of an open space which was bor- 
dered on both sides by bushes and shrubbery of 
various shades of green. The border was rather 
irregular, with now and then a shapely little tree 
adding to the picturesque setting of the scene. The 
carpeting was such as only God can arrange with 
His unlimited display of nature in rare colors of 
grass, shrubs, and flowers; many were the hours 
Molly spent in this parlor. 

An oil boom was on in full swing at the time. 
Oil experts were combing Oklahoma for signs of 
money-producing wells. One of these oil prospectors, 
passing through that part of Oklahoma at noon- 
time, came to the spot of which you have just 
read, and here was tempted to eat his lunch in the 
shade of the big tree. Finishing, he carelessly threw 
the newspaper which covered his lunch on the 
ground and went his way. 

Some time had passed since Fred had ridden the 
range to brand his new stock, so instead of sending 
one of his hired men to do the job, he decided to go 
himself. Starting very early one morning, he rode 


20 


Yank — The Crusader 


and rode, and for some unknown reason could not 
get away from day-dreaming. The young bronco 
he was riding was a wild and new mount 
and before Fred realized it the little devil was taking 
his rider through a strange country. 

At about two in the afternoon the wind started to 
blow as Fred was lazily passing through Molly ^s 
fancy-land. The newspaper left by the oil expert 
blew in the young bronco ^s face. The panic-stricken 
animal gave a mighty plunge forward and threw his 
unsuspecting rider to the ground with a violent 
shock. 

Old Scotch was still faithful to his master even 
though he had long since passed his best days. Gen- 
erally the dog had to stay home because his master 
felt that the trips were too much for such an old 
animal. However, this time Scotch had ‘‘slipped 
one over’^ on the boss and had followed him. When 
the accident occurred Scotch followed the bronco 
for a short distance, but came back to his master 
and, barking lustily, soon brought assistance. 

Molly was out in her big back yard feeding her 
chicks when she was attracted by the barking. 
At first she paid little attention to the noise, but its 
persistence annoyed her more and more until her 
curiosity was so aroused that she felt compelled to 
search for the source of the disturbance. 

She located the pleading bark and was surprised 
to find that it came from her favorite spot. Her sur- 
prise was even greater when she saw a big mass of 
human being lying in an awkward heap upon the 
ground. 

She immediately played the part of the good 
Samaritan and with a tenderness which character- 
ized all that she did, soon had nursed the unfortunate 
victim to consciousness. Fresh hoof-prints told the 
story. 


21 


A Newspaper Does Fred a Good Turn 

Fred looked about him in bewilderment and in 
his startled frame of mind was content to lie quietly 
in the arms of the beautiful, fairy-like maiden, for 
fear he would waken from the wonderful dream. 

Finally in a dazed manner he looked around to see 
if he were awake or only dreaming, when at last he 
stuttered, ‘‘S-s-say, g-g-gosh I-I am-am ain’t I? 
Where a-am I-I or-or are y-you really th-there ? ’ ’ 

The look of sympathy on Molly’s face changed 
to a smile such as only good girls are capable of 
wearing. She saw and was amused at Fred’s embar- 
rassment, the Irish in her started to play its part 
as she undertook to have some fun at the stranger’s 
expense. She said, ‘‘Friend, how came you to be 
in my parlor?” 

Now he was convinced that he was only dream- 
ing. Being thus convinced, he was perfectly satisfied 
to dream on. The idea of being in a parlor when all 
he could see was the beauties of God’s out-of-doors 
and feel Molly’s gentle arms holding his head up, 
was bewildering. 

He thought he must be in heaven. At least it was 
heavenly to have the attentions of such an angel. As 
he awakened and sensed the situation, Fred 
really enjoyed it. He pretended to be in worse shape 
than he was, just to prolong his visit in Paradise. 
“S-say, I-I don’t know your name, but I sure allow 
it isn’t improper for me to ask since you saw fit to 
treat me so kind?” 

Blushingly, she replied: “My name is Molly. 
Now I have told you who I am. Who are you?” 

“Gosh! I didn’t reckon you’d care who I might 
happen to be.” 

Molly, with a wicked twinkle in her eye, an- 
swered: “I might not be caring so much who you 
are, but as I have never seen you before I kinda want 
fo know.” 


22 


Yank — The Crusader 


Poor Fred was fussed, much to the satisfaction 
of Molly’s jovial spirit. He tried to change the sub- 
ject and in a rather clumsy, boyish manner suggested 
that he had enough strength to he on his way. 
Molly’s seeming harshness and the fall left him in 
rather a dazed state of mind. ^‘Miss Molly, might 
ye be so kind as to be telling me where I am?” 

She was being fully repaid for her trouble by the 
comical monologue Fred Sheldon was presenting. 
Her soul reveled in her innocent prank, so she an- 
swered: “You are in my parlor.” 

“Beckon yore parlors in these parts are different 
than what we call parlors where I live. Can you 
tell me how to get home ? ’ ’ 

“Stranger, I don’t know where you live.” 

Molly could see old Fred’s heart and she knew 
that she had gone far enough. The idea of being 
called a stranger by one with whom he had fallen 
in love did not appeal to him at all, and his facial ex- 
pression betrayed his inner thoughts. “My name 

is ,” and then Molly broke up his sentence by 

quickly saying: 

“You must come to my house and let mother 
dress those nasty cuts.” 

Fred’s face cheered up a bit. Her words were 
like music to him. He forgot to finish his sentence. 
He forgot his embarrassment. He forgot that he 
should be on his way home. He forgot everything 
except Molly. “Sure! I’ll do anything you say. 
Gosh I I owe you a heap of a lot. ’ ’ 

The way Fred said it Molly could not help feeling 
the kindness and warmth of his big heart. She 
helped him to his feet and together they managed 
to walk the short distance to her house. 

Mrs. McByde always kept a close watch on Molly 
and as usual she was looking in the direction of the 
favorite spot when the pair came into sight. Mother 


23 


A Newspaper Does Fred a Good Turn 

was mystified, and by the time she reached them 
she was on the run. ‘‘Faith, and what is the 
trouble r’ she said, eyeing the bloody-looking figure 
that her daughter was so lovingly assisting. The 
young folks were taken by surprise by the sudden 
appearance of Mrs. McByde. 

Once they were inside the house, mother hustled 
all the pillows and soft things in the cottage for Fred 
to rest upon, as he was still playing the sick game. 
Mrs. McByde, noticing that Molly seemed to be play- 
ing the part of a wall flower and not realizing that 
she had taken the patient completely out of Molly’s 
hands, demanded of her that she be more hospitable 
to the unfortunate lad. 

“Mother, I don’t know his name,” said cunning, 
little Miss Molly. 

Mrs. McByde, feeling a bit put out to think that 
she should lead herself into such a peculiar situa- 
tion, however, was equal to the occasion. “Faith, 
and what kin yer name be?” 

“Fred Sheldon, ma’am,” he said, with a sigh of 
relief. 

“Yis, and faith I met your father just when I 
first settled here. Ye live over in the big meadows, 
don’t ye?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Yer old man helped me when I needed it and 
that makes it a double pleasure to fix ye up a bit. 
He wasn’t looking fit that day and sure can ye tell 
me if he is still ailing?” 

In a voice which showed all too deeply the loss 
of a partnership with his father, Fred answered: 
“I reckon dad is all right, for maw says he is in 
heaven with a good friend by the name o ’ God. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Sure, he is with angels, sich as he has a right to 
be. This is my gurl, Molly, Mr. Sheldon.” 


24 


Yank — The Crusader 


‘‘They call me ‘boss’ over home, but I don’t mind 
if you call me Fred. ’ ’ He never before was prefixed 
with ‘ ‘ Mr. ’ ’ and it annoyed him. He wanted to know 
the last name of his new friends, and finally plucked 
up enough courage to ask. 

The afternoon was well-nigh spent when he sud- 
denly remembered that he must be on his journey 
home. He would not have his mother worry over 
his absence, and with this thought on his mind he 
jumped to his feet so quickly that it really fright- 
ened his hostesses. He was just turning the knob 
on the door when he realized that he must be told 
the way home. 

Mrs. McByde gladly volunteered the information 
and because of the great distance Fred must travel, 
she forced Fred to use Molly’s favorite horse. 

Fred gladly accepted the kind oifer for several 
reasons, one being that he would have an excuse 
to come back and thus renew his friendship with 
Molly. 

“Goodbye, and a thousand thanks,” called Fred, 
as he mounted the pony a bit unsteady and rode 
away. 

Mother and daughter followed him to the gate 
admiringly watching him as far as their eyes 
could see, their best wishes following him all the 
way. They walked back to the house arm in arm, 
speaking of their unexpected visitor only in the high- 
est terms. Molly loved him and could not conceal 
this fact from her mother, who was not displeased 
by it. 

Darkness soon overtook Fred but not until 
he was on the road that lead to his home. The 
moon brightened the way. The hero soul began to 
dictate thoughts to him as he figured out how he 
might elevate himself in Molly’s estimation. 


25 


A Newspaper Does Fred a Good Turn 

Fred saw himself as the greatest bronco buster 
and the champion lariat artist of the world. He 
fancied himself doing many acts of chivalry before 
his newly-made friend. A Napoleonic idea of him- 
self sprung to his mind. It really amused Fred to 
think of the extravagant ideas of himself he was en- 
joying. 

He little knew at that time that the opportunity 
for heroic service was near. The war cloud was 
speedily lowering over his country and soon he was 
to face the crisis. 

The pony was the victim of numerous displays 
of affection as they were homeward bound. Even 
Scotch, his faithful dog, showed signs of being 
jealous. 

Mrs. Sheldon was getting uneasy as Fred was 
already more than three hours late. The hired help 
were gathered around the kitchen stove speculating 
on what might have happened to the boss. His 
mother was worked up to a high pitch of excitement 
and finally she sent the help in all directions search- 
ing for her boy. She was almost frantic when she 
saw the guilty bronco grazing in the meadow. 

The searching party had been gone for nearly 
an hour when Fred rode up to the kitchen door and 
dismounted. He entered the house and found his 
mother on her knees. She leaped to her feet and, 
clasping him in her arms, exclaimed: ‘‘My prayers 
have been answered.^’ 

As Fred told his story his mother perceived that 
something new had entered his life, but she never 
questioned the boy as she knew the truth would come 
to her in its own natural way. 

The searching party returned at a late hour and 
forgot their anxiety when they were greeted by their 
smiling boss. Old Pete, who had long since forgot- 
ten his age and just as long since passed his stage 


26 


Yank — The Crusader 


of usefulness, simply had to say to Fred, ‘‘I allowed, 
by heck, that you would be able to keer f er yerself. ’ ^ 
Smilingly, Fred returned: ‘‘You have been 
teaching me how all these years. 

“Not a braggin’ nor nuthin’ of that sort, but I 
shore am proud of ye, boy.^^ 

Fred had to repeat his explanations as many 
times as there were men on the farm because they 
all desired to be confidential with him, farmer 
fashion. Old Scotch would help Fred’s explanations 
by adding emphasis to whatever his master would 
say with a sharp bark. 

Fred went bright and early the next day to return 
the pony. Molly and he visited a long time that 
day, and love sang its own sweet song. 

On every trip to town Fred found it convenient 
to see Molly, even though it took him some distance 
out of his way. Mother Sheldon, realizing it took 
Fred an unusually long time to make the trips, sus- 
picioned the reason and longed for the day when 
Fred would tell her the whole story. 

That day came when our country sent forth her 
call for men. 


CHAPTER m 

CHRISTY STRONG 

A long look ahead is of such great value to 
each man individually and our country as a whole, 
that it is a great pleasure to introduce a far-sighted 
young man who played a big part in the life of our 
hero, Fred Sheldon. The fact is, he had a lifting 
influence on the lives of everyone he met. 

This splendid specimen of American manhood 
stands out as a champion of his ideals. ‘‘If any- 
thing stands in the way of attaining your ideal, fight 
it,^^ was one of Christy Strong ^s favorite expres- 
sions, and he practiced what he preached. 

The devil was trying to trip him into the pits of 
hell but the temptations never whipped him because 
Chris had a Partner, a big Partner who could and 
did help him overcome the artificial charms of Satan. 

The standards Christy chose were the standards 
he flew. Among his many good qualities were his 
noble unselfishness, and his love for righteousness. 
Many men received a real, warm, man-to-man intro- 
duction to Christy’s big Partner because of his un- 
tiring, never-ceasing efforts to show men the way 
to the Upper Trail. 

He was six feet high, slight, with a soldierly 
bearing, and it was a pleasure to view his neat and 
correct appearance. His real attraction was his won- 
derfully expressive face. The character stamped in 
that face made it different. His jaws were squared 
and well set; his forehead high, and his big brown 
eyes wore that ever human, watchful, sympathetic 
appeal. His dark hair showed the care of a self- 


28 


Yank — The Crusader 


respecting man, and together with his rosy cheeks 
completed the make-np of a very pleasing person- 
ality. 

To Christy the beauty of living was the joy in 
life. Chris fought a good fight ; he was a real fighter 
and the fighting spirit permeated everything he did. 

Many of the folks who met Chris would compli- 
ment him because of his sterling worth and the in- 
spiration he gave them. You could not flatter him 
into big-headedness. He would always humbly show 
appreciation for the words of encouragement that 
his admirers would give him, only feeling their com- 
pliments were words of encouragement. ‘Hf I ever 
do anyone any good, it is due to the patience and 
prayers of my dear, little mother. 

Mrs. Strong, Christy’s mother, never said any- 
thing that would shake her son’s faith in God or his 
fellowmen. She lived for her son and it was the 
great ambition of her life that in so doing she might 
give to the world a true-blue servant. Every step 
of the way she prepared for him a life of service, 
in the service of the King of Kings and Master of all. 

The life of this wonderful little mother was so 
adventuresome and is of such great importance to 
our story that surely the reader will enjoy the privi- 
lege of knowing more about her. 

Sweden was her birthplace and there the first 
sixteen years of her girlhood were spent. Her play 
and education were well divided and in no wise made 
her a dull or silly young miss. She received her 
education in the tongue of her forefathers, but was 
also a fine student of English. 

She learned to read the American newspapers 
and read so many wonderful things of the 
land that Americans all love, that even against the 
wishes of her fond parents and many friends, she 
crossed the Atlantic and reached the great metrop- 


29 


Christy Strong 

olis of the western hemisphere after an unusually 
stormy six weeks ^ voyage. Fortunately for the fear- 
less young immigrant, a kind-hearted American 
woman became very much interested in her and was 
a real friend. 

Minnie’s understanding of English was a favor- 
able surprise to Mrs. Koberts, the leading dress- 
maker of C , who was her fellow-passenger on 

the boat. Hour after hour and day after day the 
two would talk over the many things of interest in 
the land she had read so much about. Like a child 
in wonderland, she listened to her well-informed, 
new friend tell of the vastness, the majesty, the rich- 
ness and the promise of the land toward which they 
were sailing. 

The weeks of the stormy voyage ended and the 
land of liberty welcomed Minnie with outstretched 
arms. Already, before she was in sight of the coast, 
her friend, Mrs. Eoberts, assured her of a position 
and it was not long until she was quite an accom- 
plished dressmaker, earning very good wages. 

The restless and adventuresome spirit in the 
coming American had not been satisfied. The noise 
and hustle of the large city did not appeal to her. 
There was an inherent longing for something bigger, 
something more magnificent, that could not be 
quieted. 

In those days the newspapers were filled with 
long descriptive articles booming the Eocky Moun- 
tain country. The wildness of the country rekindled 
her adventuresome nature and in spite of all the op- 
posing influences that stood in her way. Miss Minnie 
decided to venture again. She was soon on her way 
to the Golden West. 

Her destination was a large town which was 
situated almost in the shadows of the giant Eockies. 
The first time in her life that she experienced a feel- 


30 


Yank — The Crusader 


ing of satisfaction was when she stepped off the 

train in D . This busy western town seemed to 

be the one place in the world for which she was 
longing. 

Not long after her arrival in D she found a 

good location to build up a dressmaking business, 
and with the money she had saved during her em- 
ployment in Mrs. Eoberts^ concern, Minnie was able 
to equip a neat little shop. Her ability as a dress- 
maker soon became known to “the four hundred 
and then she had all the work she could do. 

Just around the corner from her little shop was 
the grocery store where she bought her few little 
supplies. A certain young man always made it a 
point to wait on the young customer, and as the days 
went by they became lovers and finally husband and 
wife. 

The young couple, Mr. and Mrs. Strong, after a 
happy honeymoon in the Eockies, settled down, and 
with their combined earnings were able to start a 
grocery store all of their own. They soon worked 
up a thriving business and then started a little home. 

The Strongs were very happy together. Mr. 
Strong was prudent in all his business dealings, 
while his little wife was a housekeeper second to 
none. It was in this happy home that Christy first 
saw the light one beautiful spring. 

Christy, from his babyhood to his manhood, was 
all that could be expected of a robust, healthy child. 
Early in life he learned to smile and all through life 
had a smile for everyone he met. 

In his early boyhood his favorite stunt was to 
miss Sunday school. He would rather play baseball 
or football or any of the real manly games than 
study about Peter, James and John. Even his school 
lessons had to take a back seat. However, his dad 
was careful and judicious and tamed the boy in time. 


31 


Christy Strong 

When Christy reached the age of twelve his 
father gave him a membership in the Y. M. C. A. 
The boy took advantage of the opportunity and 
availed himself of all that it had to offer. ' 

Christy ^s habits started to change. Regularity 
took the place of carefree carelessness. He became 
interested in the meaning of life and then sought 
its meaning in all its fullness. 

That summer Christy was privileged to attend 
the ‘‘Y’’ camp. Each new day in the heart of the 
old Rockies brought the boy into a stronger realiza- 
tion of the handiwork of the Creator. He took real 
interest from then on in the Bible stories which were 
told around the campfire. 

The young lad would take short hikes into the 
mountains with a big Partner, ‘‘The Great Trail 
Blazer, Jesus Christ.’^ The lad^s vision broadened 
with such comradeship and from then on a great 
change took place in Christy ^s life. The great pas- 
sion for service was developing in his soul. 

The vacant lot behind Christy ^s home was the 
scene of much of his childhood play. His life had a 
touch of romance in it and on those old playgrounds 
it started. A little playmate by the name of Helen 
Grant was for some reason the queen in all his games 
and the mistress of all his playhouses. It continued 
to be so until one day when Christy was fifteen years 
old, he met an evil companion. 

The two boys had just eaten dinner at Christy’s 
home and were bound for a movie when a notion 
came into Bullie’s head. He went under the electric 
arc and picked up several chunks of carbon. The 
boys passed Helen’s home where Bullie stopped and 
wrote some unclean thoughts on the sidewalk. 
Christy did not suspicion anything bad, and, unfor- 
tunately for him, he paid no attention to the action 
of his friend. 


32 


Yank — The Crusader 


The next morning the whole of the Grant family 
were out scrubbing the sidewalk, but the more water 
they threw on the walk, the thicker the ice formed 
on the carbon marks. 

Chris came by the house to walk with Helen to 
school while the Grants were engaged in erasing the 
gutter slang from their walk. Someone had 
lied. The whole family pointed the accusing finger 
at Chris. Poor fellow, his big heart nearly broke 
when he read the vulgarity of which he was accused. 
His spirit was broken to think that his friend would 
think such smut and that he should be accused. 

Injustice had been done and Chris was the victim. 
His heart almost stopped beating and his blood grew 
cold as he resolutely decided to say nothing in de- 
fense of himself and to put it up to his friend to 
make amends. Bullie just naturally could not and 
would not do it, so Chris decided to wait until he 
grew to be a man before he told the Grants his story. 

Eight years passed and he remained faithful to 
his decision. Then the day came when he told his 
story. That day followed closely the day that our 
country declared a state of war existed. He had been 
thinking and knew that it was right for him to do 
his best for his country and fair to himself, to let the 
Grants know the truth. They were glad to hear it 
and in fact long before he told them they decided 
that they had placed the blame on the wrong 
shoulders. 

All these years he was not carrying a grudge; 
on the other hand, the same love for Helen burned 
within him. Helen, however, called him ‘‘friend’^ 
and was proud to do so, but as the years had passed 
another suitor had been pressing his favors upon her. 



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CHAPTER IV 

THE WORLD UNREST AND THE WAR CLOUD 

Civilization has encountered many obstacles on 
its road to perfection. The day on which war was 
declared the world had reached the highest ebb of 
civilization, not because we were so much wiser thau 
our forefathers but because of the accumulated 
knowledge of the past ages being used to the best 
advantage by the present generation. 

Men everywhere, when they pause in a moment’s 
thought of the achievements of their fellow beings, 
exclaim that it is impossible to invent anything more 
to add to the already close relationship of all the 
nations of the world. Their minds are bewildered 
as they search for improvements on the locomotive, 
steamship, airship, automobile, telephone, telegraph, 
wireless, phonograph, typewriter, newspaper, 
motion-picture machine and wonderful machinery of 
the factories. No age in history can boast of such 
rapid intercourse between nations. 

The past twenty years had seen the nations of 
the world change from a group of nations concerned 
only in their own selfish welfare to a group of 
nations struggling for a world brotherhood. This 
may be truly said of all nations with one outstanding 
exception — the emperor-ridden country of Germany. 

The black sheep of the nations was like all other 
black sheep — selfish, self-centered, and unthoughtful 
of the feelings of others. This country was ruled by 
an ego-maniac whose lust for power knew no bounds, 
this characteristic being inherited from his fore- 


34 


Yank — The Crusader 


fathers, who educated him to plan and plot a world 
empire at the expense of an unsuspecting world. 

His forefathers had been successful in the cold- 
blooded game of conquest. They found that they 
added more in dollars and cents to their empire in 
a few years of territorial conquest than they did in 
many years of peaceful pursuits. 

Jealous and with craven eyes, the Leech of Ber- 
lin watched other countries prosper while he was 
inwardly planning their destruction. Forty years 
or more he was preparing for the terrible man- 
slaughter that was to make him ruler of the world. 
He used the public schools, kindergartens, Sunday 
schools, colleges, and churches to mould public opin- 
ion for his ‘‘Germany rule the world policy. 

The rest of the world was content to play the 
fine game of ‘ ‘ live and let live. ^ ^ They realized that 
the world had a plenty for all who were willing to 
work for it. 

Commercially speaking, no one would suspicion 
the slightest ill-feeling between nations, although 
some nations, because of their resources, gained 
more wealth than others. Germany herself was en- 
joying an enviable world- wide trade. 

The empire had changed from an agricultural 
country to a manufacturing country and because of 
its natural resources the time allotted to her as a 
manufacturing center was short, and because of this 
she must find more resources in iron ore that she 
might continue her manufacturing career. 

Some few years before the war was declared the 
richest iron ore mines in the world were discovered 
near Verdun, France. This place was food for the 
jealous, lustful eyes of the Kaiser. 

The peace-loving world did not offer many real 
causes for starting such a war, so he made much ado 
over a situation which occurred in a Slavonic prov- 


World Unrest and the War Cloud 


35 


ince in Austria. By right of geographical situation 
and nationality the province belonged to Serbia but 
the Dual Monarchy won it from the small country 
by force of arms. 

The reader will remember how the tin-hom Arch- 
duke paraded through the streets of this province, 
even when he knew that the people hated him, and 
that his chances for coming out alive were small. 

Austria demanded reparation from little Serbia 
because the archduke was shot, and made ten con- 
ditions to which Serbia must agree in order to escape 
a military invasion from the big bully. Serbia must 
agree within twenty-four hours. 

The little country did all in its power to reason 
with Austria. It called upon the willing big brothers 
— Prance, England and Russia — to aid her in the 
trouble. They did their best to reason with Austria 
but all of no avail. Behind Austria stood the Kaiser 
and his crowd, commending the stand their col- 
league took in forming this critical moment in 
world history. 

The thief likes to cover up his footprints of guilt 
and the same can be said of Kaiser Bill. While his 
henchmen were promoting this low-down, criminal 
plan against a poor, helpless little nation, he was 
leisurely yachting on the North Sea. The old fox 
was caught playing his game by those he planned 
on subduing. The larger nations stepped in and with 
their combined etforts fought this military monster 
and its system of grabbing small defenseless coun- 
tries. 

July 28, 1914, will long be remembered in the 
annals of history as the day the great war cloud 
burst and in all its terrible fury soaked the whole 
world with its gloom of misery. 

Some have given the Satanic Emperor credit for 
his ability to develop so wonderful an organization 


36 


Yank — The Crusader 


as his military demon. Others loathe to give him 
credit because he was superior in a dastardly game 
for which the self-respecting world had no use. 

The nations of Europe with only a few exceptions 
became involved in the ever-spreading, violent pesti- 
lence of war. The fortunes of battle naturally 
favored the best prepared and if Providence had 
not interceded the invader would have captured 
Paris, taken Calais, London and then crossed the 
Atlantic to finish his job. 

The blood-soaked battlefields were lengthening 
as ‘‘The Mad Man of Europe^’ was successful. The 
more he won the more defiant he became and as a 
consequence he showed little respect for neutral 
nations. 

His henchmen had discovered and perfected 
many forms of destruction which met with great 
success, and when it was inconvenient for him to 
abide by his agreements of honor. International 
Law or any other ‘ ‘ Scraps of Paper, ’ ^ he would ruth- 
lessly set them aside and proceed with his program 
of destruction. Mad with his increasing success, the 
ego-maniac defied the whole world. 

Away from the smoke and fumes of the battle- 
field, across the Atlantic, was prospering the great- 
est liberty and peace-loving nation in the world. 
Even it felt the deadly fangs of the autocracies^ 
rampant, hap-hazard warfare. The republics of 
South America, the deserts and jungles of Africa, 
Australia, Asia and North America all began to feel 
the effects of the war. 

The United States of America has been the melt- 
ing pot of the world for more than a century. Old 
Uncle Sam has been a good fellow to the deserving 
and many from every country in the world have 
adopted him as their guardian, choosing as fhe land 
of their preference the good old U. S. A. Peoples 


World Unrest ana the War Cloud 


37 


from the enemies ^ country selected this land in pref- 
erence to their fatherland. This great conglomera- 
tion of nationalities at the beginning of the world- 
war made our great country a pandemonium of dif- 
ferent opinions regarding the cause of the horrible 
condition of affairs. Immediately we chose a policy 
of neutrality. 

Our position as a neutral was sneered at by the 
victorious Maniac of Berlin, and because of his suc- 
cess and our love for freedom and peace and our 
seeming lack of military power, he missed no oppor- 
tunity to slap us in the face. We patiently put up 
with much because we could not believe that his 
policy was as fiendish as it really was. 

He boldly announced an unrestricted subma- 
rine warfare on and after February 3, 1917. 
This was the slap that riled the American people 
into drastic steps, the first of which was an 
armed neutrality, which proved ineffectual at its 
best and a good excuse for more hostility from our 
enemy. 

April 6, 1917, the war cloud allowed a few rays 
of light to shine through from across the Atlantic 
and our friends and foes saw the sun rise that day 
in the form of the Stars and Stripes and across that 
old flag were written the words contained in the 
memorable speech of President Woodrow Wilson, 
the message of world freedom— a declaration of war 
against the enemies of a world brotherhood. 

If we entered the war merely because a war- 
passioned nation destroyed some of our property, 
our cause was insufficient. If we entered the war to 
approve or disapprove of the actions of friend or foe, 
we were still in want of a cause. If we entered the 
war to destroy a nation or several nations, we are 
no better than the Boche. If we entered the 
war because we were inspired to do so in 


38 


Yank — The Crusader 


protection of the righteous ideals that our fore- 
fathers fostered and fought for in years gone by, 
our cause was worthy and worth while. If we en- 
tered the war accepting the German challenge, if 
it was our ambition to make the world a safe place 
to live in, and thus make future wars impossible, our 
cause deserves the applause of the world. 

We made a choice of policy which placed at the 
disposal of the allies all our resources in men and 
money. The example of our forefathers bade us do 
no less. The barbarian’s haughty challenge called 
for such an action. Our dream of a world peace 
must be won at the point of a bayonet, and therefore 
we must show our faith in the ideal by lighting. 

Even though it was hard to have any kindly feel- 
ings toward the Boche, we had no quarrel with the 
German people but with their fiendish government 
which had not only caused much misery and hard- 
ship to our allies but had succeeded in bleeding 
white the youth and flower of their own country. 
It was not our object to segregate the scientific Ger- 
man mind from the brotherhood of the world. 

The people of the United States sensed the fore- 
going situation with a remarkable speed and a noble 
spirit. It truly hurt them to know that they had 
enemies plotting against them when they felt at 
peace with the whole world. The plotting of revolts 
and setting the torch to the industries of a peaceful 
nation could only exist where there was an auto- 
cratic government, where the destiny of a nation 
was a family secret of its ruler. 

We accepted our place among the champions of 
democracy as a nation, and every citizen of that 
nation counted it a rare privilege to back up his 
countr}^ to the best of his ability. 

President Wilson said in his famous war speech: 
‘^It is a fearful thing to lead this peace- 


World Unrest and the War Cloud 


39 


loving nation into war.^^ Millions of other men 
like Fred and Chris felt that it was the honor- 
able thing, and they were willing to make the 
supreme sacrifice if necessary to see their cause vic- 
torious. However, their brave hearts were eager to 
live for their country. 

The American youth was favored with so much 
to live for when the call to colors came he had much 
to give up ; but with an admirable eagerness he will- 
ingly placed himself at the command of his country. 

The war gave many of the boys the opportunity 
of seeing their own country, and the more they saw 
of the U. S. A., the more they felt it to be a country 
worth fighting for. 


CHAPTER V 

THE VOLUNTEER 

The tenth of every month was Fredas big busi- 
ness day in town. April 10, 1917, he found bigger 
business than ever awaiting his attention. His 
country was at war. 

It did not take him long to make a decision. His 
whole life was a fight. Fight was all he knew. Fight 
was his answer to the challenge that confronted 
every American youth after the declaration of war. 

He mounted his pony and rode in the direction of 
Molly’s home. He arrived there earlier than usual 
and consequently found Molly busy doing chores 
around the house. 

His spirit was high. He could hardly control 
himself. If he had met a German that day there 
would have been another Hun shooting up daisies 
with the nutrition of his carcass. 

His pony had not stopped when he leaped off and 
rushed over to Molly, and before he realized it had 
her cuddled in his powerful arms, at the same 
time telling her of his decision to enlist. Molly 
bravely encouraged him. 

Fred did not spend much time at Molly’s home 
because of his excited state of mind. Molly had all 
she could do to cool him sufficiently to get him to 
promise to return and visit her before he left. No 
doubt he would have done so without the persistent 
plea, but kindred hearts are anxious hearts. 

Molly soon saw the boy on his pony, off for home. 
Even though she encouraged him in the splendid 


The Volunteer 


41 


motive of enlisting, her heart filled to overflowing 
as he rode ont of sight. 

^ She did not return to the kitchen; no indeed. Her 
fairy garden was calling — she must see the spot 
where she first met him. The pen of the world ^s 
greatest author could not describe the emotions of 
her thoughts. Tt is hard to part company with a 
good friend, but to have your dreams of love broken 
into so abruptly hurts way down deep. Then, too, 
she kept picturing him facing the dangers 
of battle. Her soul swelled with pride as she pic- 
tured him fighting as she knew he could and would. 
Her thoughts became so sacred that she could no 
longer stand, so on bended knee she asked God for 
courage that she might be worthy of such a partner. 

Just as the sun was sinking below the horizon 
Fred greeted his mother who stood at the gate await- 
ing his return. She readily perceived the frame of 
his mind and did not need to be told that her son^s 
spirits were high. She could hardly wait for an ex- 
planation because she had never seen him in such an 
expectant mood before. 

‘‘Fred, my boy, what might be the nature of 
your joy?'’ 

“Mother, we are at war, and your son joins the 
colors tomorrow." 

A mixture of expressions quivered over his 
mother's face — some of pride, others of sorrow. She 
smiled the best she could but her heart was burdened 
and too full for words. 

Fred kissed his mother — that kiss lasted just a 
little longer than usual — and then he went around 
his ranch giving his men instructions regarding 
their permanent duties. 

His trip completed, he returned for supper. Not 
many minutes later the news was spread to all the 
neighboring ranches and a meeting was held plan- 


42 Yank — The Crusader 

ning a farewell to the boy who meant so much to 
that community. 

The question of what to give Fred as a token was 
the big issue of the meeting. They took up a col- 
lection which had many liberal donations. 

Supper was over in the Sheldon home. Mother 
and son were busily engaged in preparing for the 
trip. Mother was doing much thinking while Fred 
was talking over the war issues and possibilities. 

An hour had passed since supper when forty or 
fifty of the good country folks took possession of the 
Sheldon home to pay their respects to the lad they 
had learned to love and admire. 

Old Pete was master of ceremonies and hence 
opened the celebration with the following flow of 
oratory: ^^Fred, we reckon that you would not have 
any ill-feeling if we would just come and say 
goodbye.’^ 

‘‘Pete, it is all right. I reckon anything you do 
is all right. ’ ’ 

Thus flattered, old Pete was at a loss to continue. 
“We reckon your mother wants to be with you, so 
our stay will be short. 

“Thank you, Pete,^^ said Mrs. Sheldon, pleas- 
antly relieved. 

A short program followed. The prima donna of 
the countryside rendered several patriotic selec- 
tions. Fredas young brother, Jim, gave the only 
piece he ever learned, “Just Before Christmas I^m 
as Good as I Can Be.^^ Fred remembered the work 
the kid put into rendering that little poem. He was 
proud of his young brother, who was to take his 
place from then on. 

Old Pete called for refreshments, nuts, dough- 
nuts and cakes of all descriptions. They made merry 
and after the bunch had eaten the master of cere- 
monies called for quiet. 


The Volunteer 


43 


^^Fred, we are happy and thought that you might 
be glad to know that we are all in cahoots on a 
present for you. Gosh, boy, you don’t know how 
we’ll miss you. (The tears trickled down the old 
man’s cheeks.) This yer rag holds a few dollars 
which will buy you something when you’re in the 
army. Goodbye, old boy, and remember we all count 
on you as a scrapper.” 

Fred untied the red bandana and found every- 
thing from the kiddie’s penny to the foreman’s 
five-dollar bill. He really did not need the coin, but 
resolved to use the money wisely and buy something 
that would last and remind him of the little, last 
hour. 

‘‘Neighbors, my wish is that you will be good to 
maw. Keep her happy. Jim needs watching and if 
he is bad just tell me when I get back and I’ll spank 
him. (Everyone enjoyed the brotherly remark and 
gave way to hearty laughter.) Thanks for your 
goodness. Come often and keep maw company.” 

The little party left the house, proud to have 
enjoyed the privilege of attending the farewell to 
their own Fred. Their bowed heads showing up in 
the moonlight expressed plainer than words that 
they were thinking of the days they would miss 
Fred’s smiling face. 

The light burned all that night. Mother and 
son spoke of the past and planned for the future. 
Naturally the mother heart yearned for a successful 
career for her boy; but her thoughts were of other 
things. She was a woman of worldly experience 
and knew the temptations and pitfalls that con- 
fronted her lad. She knew his innocence and coun- 
try ways would make him an easy prey to the hench- 
man of Satan if he were not warned. 

It was hard — the hardest thing she ever did to 
take the father’s place and point out the guideposts 


44 


Yank — The Crusader 


to a victorious life. While she was advising she was 
praying for wisdom. 

The old family Bible had been lost for some time 
but Mrs. Sheldon knew many passages. Her deepest 
passion was to feel positively that she would meet 
her lad in the great land of promise if not again on 
earth. His was the religion of the clear blue sky, 
and as often as his mother had spoken of the teach- 
ings of Jesus Christ they meant but very little to 
him. That night, however, they were more real to 
him and he at least made the first step toward a 
closer relationship with his Creator. 

Bays of the eastern sun were shooting above the 
horizon when brother Jim was in the stable hitch- 
ing up. 

A few minutes later mother and son, with arms 
linked, walked to the carriage. He had no suitcase 
but mother sewed a neat little bag for his belong- 
ings. In the other hand he carried a rolled blanket. 
It was a sight to see the young cowboy dressed 
in a big sombrero with wide leather band, blue shirt 
and red bandana around the neck, and, iDest of all, 
his only pair of go-to-meetin’ trousers and fancy 
high-top boots. 

^‘Maw, we ^11 sit in the middle seat while Jimmy 
drives us to town.’’ Not much was said as they 
rode along. 

“Jim, turn to the right,” Fred said just in the 
nick of time. 

“Brother, that isn’t the right road to town.” 

“You are right, but I want maw to meet some 
friends.” 

No more was said and soon they were driving 
up to the McByde gate. 

“Mother, you and Jim must come in and meet 
some friends of mine,” he said with a half -bashful 
gesture. 


The Volunteer 


45 


Molly had spied the visitors and was out to see 
them before Fred could help his mother to the 
ground. 

Mrs. Sheldon had suspicioned for a long time 
that Fred was dividing his attentions, even though 
he never intentionally let it be known. 

‘‘Fred, I am so happy you have brought your 
mother. I have wanted to see her for so long. Mrs. 
Sheldon, let^s hurry and see my mother; she will 
be so happy. 

Fat little Mrs. McByde was not far behind Molly, 
so the little group met at the gate. Formalities of 
etiquette were not in order as they all felt as though 
they had been life-long friends. 

“And be ye Fredas mother? Ye sure look the 
like of the woman he describes as sich,’’ said the 
hostess of the little farm. 

Jim was taking in everything and his occasional 
glances at Fred were full of teasing expressions. 

Arm in arm the mothers walked to the cottage, 
thinking of the future and flattering one another 
about their children. Once having entered the house, 
they talked and worked together, finishing the morn- 
ing house cleaning. Mrs. McByde suggested that 
they have a farewell feast for the boy in whom she 
claimed a big interest. 

“Jim, you mind the horse and Scotch while we 
take a little walk.’’ 

“Sure, brother,” he said with a twinkling of 
inquisitive trickery brightening his features. 

The two lovers strolled up the old trail that led 
to Molly’s enchanted spot, talking of the future and 
making sensible plans. 

The kid was cautiously carrying out the orders 
of his big brother, especially while the couple was 
in sight. But his curiosity was aroused so much 


46 


Yank — The Crusader 


that he forgot his responsibility and followed in the 
direction of the old trail, keeping well out of sight 
but in a place where he conld witness all that 
went on. 

The feast all prepared, Mrs. McByde went out 
and called the unsuspecting guests. Jim was first 
to hear and with little or no delay double-timed to 
his post of responsibility before his unfaithful act 
was discovered. 

The sweethearts answered the call and the 
mothers walked out to meet them. They all 
met just in time to watch Jim intently staging an 
act all his own. 

He stood faithful, old Scotch under a tree and 
pretended the dog was Molly, and himself Fred, in 
the garden of love. Unconscious of any audience, 
he went through the scene he had witnessed in 
Molly ^s favorite spot. 

^ * Molly, dear, ’ ^ said the playful boy to old Scotch 
(who seemed to enjoy the whole show) ‘‘We have 
known each other only a short time and I reckon 
I am a bit early, but you know I am leaving and I 
kinda want to make sure before I go. What would 
you say if I asked you to marry me when I come 
backr^ 

“Now, Scotch, you must nod your head and 
say: ‘I have been thinking about that very thing. ^ “ 

“I kinda reckoned you wouldn^t mind, so I told 
you my plans for us. Now dear girlie, wonT you 
say ‘yes^r^ 

About this time it was a great effort for the 
mothers to contain themselves. They were enjoying 
the little play much more than the ones who were 
being imitated. It was a double comedy first to 
watch the youthful actor and then to study the guilty 
expressions of Molly and Fred. 


The Volunteer 


47 


^‘Now, Scotch, you say to me: ‘Fred, there could 
not be another man to whom I could promise so 
much. Yes, dear, here is my hand.^ 

Fred turned redder than an American Beauty 
rose when he made this explanation. The young 
pretender acted the part very well. “You see, Molly, 
I haven T had time to buy a ring but my friends gave 
me a farewell reception last night and I intend to 
buy the ring with the money they gave me. Might 
it please you to seal the bargain with a kissF^ 

This was more than the lovers could comfortably 
stand, but both stood speechless as Mother Sheldon 
interrupted the youngster by calling him to dinner. 
The boy was taken by surprise when he turned 
around and found he had been entertaining an audi- 
ence. It didn^t take him long to seek mother ^s pro- 
tecting wing. 

“Come children and weT feast to the day ye’ll 
be man and wife.” 

Mrs. Sheldon had not expected such a scene when 
she left home that morning. The whole affair so 
amused her that she forgot many of her sorrowful 
thoughts. 

The banqueting all over, the jolly party started 
for the depot to see their hero off to war. The time 
was all too short for kisses, hugs and good-byes. 
With a hurried “Mother” and a big hug that ex- 
pressed more than affection, Fred turned to his 
sweetheart. 

“Molly, old girl,” said he as it was her turn. 

“Fred, remember and come back to me the same 
as you are now. That is all I ask.” 

“You bet,” said he. 

Just as the train was pulling in, mother came in 
for another and last embrace. ‘ ‘ Fred, buy yourself 
a Bible and study it. It is man’s treasure book and 


48 


Yank — The Crusader 


in it you will find comfort and strength,’^ was her 
final advice. 

All that Fred saw was the brave smiles that 
blessed the faces of his loved ones, '^hey felt that 
they were losing a great deal when their hero boy 
stepped on the train and waved ‘ ‘ good-bye . ' ^ 


CHAPTER VI 


THE DOUBLE CHALLENGE 

Unlike Fred, Chris could serve his country in 
many capacities. Manly strength combined with a 
fighting spirit, as well as a splendid education backed 
with spiritual power, all challenged the best in him. 

It might be well to state that, like many young 
men with high ideals, he was confronted with per- 
plexing questions : Is war right ? Could he still be- 
lieve in Jesus Christ and kill his fellow men on the 
battlefield? Is there a God cruel enough to allow 
such a terrible carnage of life to continue? These 
and other important questions he must answer. 

That night the 5"oung idealist could not sleep. He 
must take a stand on one side or the other. He must 
fight his own fight. No one could make the decision 
for him. The following morning at the breakfast 
table Chris was not as affable as usual. 

Mother Strong instinctively knew her son was 
in a very pensive mood. She naturally wanted to 
share his troubles. Chris, you seem worried this 
morning. 

‘‘Mother, dear, I didnT sleep well last night. 

“My boy, more than the loss of sleep bothers you. 
CanT you tell your mother? 

He had not settled the questions, so he shook his 
head signifying that for the time being he had 
nothing to say. 

That day on every street comer, on all the cars, 
in the school and everywhere the topic of discussion 
was the war. Some street corner patriots had the 


so 


Yank — The Crusader 


Germans retreating as far as Berlin. If hot air 
would do the trick these enthusiastic flag wavers 
would have had the terrible Hun whipped in a short 
time. Many of the sick, lame and lazy were bragging 
about what they would do if only given an oppor- 
tunity. 

Our friend Cliris had very little use for grand- 
stand play. During the school hours he was inat- 
tentive to the war discussions which took the 
place of the many lessons. He was thinking. 

The Y. M. C. A. was his favorite haunt. Many 
were the hours of unselfish service he had rendered 
that institution. When school was over he hurried 
down to the room where he taught a Bible class of 
high school men. It was quiet there and in that quiet 
he made his decision. 

The twilight hour caught Chris feeling the need 
of nourishment, so with a determination he started 
for home. It seemed to him as if all the world’s 
burdens had been lifted from his shoulders. 

Naturally the whole day Mrs. Strong fretted 
about her son’s apparent unsettled mind. Supper 
was spreading its tempting aroma thru the house 
while mother and father waited for the presence of 
their son before partaking. 

They waited a little longer than usual but as he 
entered the room the expression which lightened his 
face also lightened the weight on his mother’s heart. 

The happy family were all seated at the table. 
Mr. Strong requested, ‘‘Son, will you ask the bless- 
ing ? ’ ’ 

“Young man,” the father said, “you have had 
some time to consider your place in this world war. 
Naturally your mother and I are interested. Have 
you decided?” 

“Yes, I am going to join the army.” 


51 


J'he Double Challenge 

Startled by the quick reply, both parents assumed 
a thoughtful attitude while Chris explained his po- 
sition. 

^‘My life has been dedicated to unselfish service. 
The cause of righteousness is my fight because it was 
the fight of my Commander-in-chief. 

‘‘Several questions perplexed me to start with 
but I am thoroughly convinced that our cause is 
ri^'ht and I know, that being the case, I don’t have 
to make a choice between Christ and country. In 
this case they go hand in hand. 

“Jesus Christ in my estimation was the greatest 
fighter the world has ever known. He fought for 
righteousness unceasingly and without compromise. 

‘ ‘ I have been a lover of peace and am still a lover 
of the brand of peace the Savior championed, a peace 
founded in righteousness. Peace under present con- 
ditions would be disgraceful, therefore I am ready 
to serve my country in the best possible way. ’ ’ 

The parents agreed and knew Chris felt every 
word he spoke. They listened to him with a tremen- 
dous pride. It was decided that he should finish his 
year at the university before going into active ser- 
vice. 

A dozen opportunities for service presented them- 
selves to Chris. Two of them really challenged him, 
the officers ’ training school and the army Y. M. C. A. 

Most of his friends advised and encouraged him 
to go to the training camp. They felt and knew he 
would make a good and thoughtful officer. 

The university with its regular routine of duties 
became tiresome and unattractive to him. The big 
obligation of serving country was continually annoy- 
ing him. He felt God was challenging him to teach 
the Bible truths to the men in khaki and on the other 
hand his fellowmen seemed to challenge him to 


52 


Yank — The Crusader 


shoulder a gun. Chris preferred to accept the chal- 
lenge of man. 

If he were to give way to his love for sport, action 
and his physical prowess, he would join the army. 
If he were to give way to his passion for men ^s souls 
he would answer the call of God. 

It was hard, mighty hard, for him to feel that he 
was worthy of a position so sacred as preaching the 
gospel to the soldiers. The thought that he could at 
least try to make himself worthy challenged him and 
upon that basis he enlisted in the army work. 

Chris was sent to a cantonment made up of old 
regular army men, where young sixteen, seventeen 
and eighteen-year-old enlisted lads were being sent 
to fill up the old companies. 

The mixing of the regulars^’ of many summers^ 
service with the innocent, unsuspecting young boys, 
who enlisted as the result of high impulsive ideals, 
presented a hard problem. Most of the boys felt 
they were not soldiers until they had acquired all the 
bad habits of the old-timer. 

Many stories could be told of how Chris played 
the big brother to the younger lads. Many a mother 
has thanked God for what Christy did for her son. 

One Sunday afternoon Christy left his hat in one 
of the squad tents while he fell in for mess and after 
eating a good army dinner he found a little recrea- 
tion in playing catch with the men. 

A number of crap-shooters gathered to try their 
luck in the tent where Christy left his hat. It was 
generally known that Chris was to be drafted and 
as he approached the tent he heard one of the gam- 
blers remark: ‘^Damn it all, I^d sure like to see Chris 
three months after he’s in the army. I’ll bet he’ll gam- 
ble, cuss, smoke, and chase around with the worst.” 

Chris was burning with indignation and he felt 
the force of such a challenge. He let the men in the 


The Double Challenge 53 

tent know that he overheard the remark and for over 
an honr he explained why his accuser was wrong. 
He preached a sermon that touched the hearts of 
those men but was not aware of the force back of 
his talk until the next day. 

Corporal Dan, a cowpuncher and backwoodsman, 
had never known what decency was until Chris in- 
troduced him to the Savior. 

The day after Chris changed the crap game into 
a Bible class, Corporal Dan told Chris what the men 
had to say concerning the talk of the day before. 
He heard it himself and remained to hear the re- 
marks the men made in Christy’s absence. ‘‘Say, 
buddie, you know since I heard those men talk after 
you left, I am forced to say that I believe every man 
has a streak of decency in him somewhere. They 
didn’t laugh or sneer when you left, not by a long 
shot. The old sin-soaked birds spent the rest of the 
afternoon discussing the Bible.” 

Christy was well pleased to learn the men’s atti- 
tude and took advantage of the situation. ‘‘Cor- 
poral, old boy, I am satisfied the more I talk to these 
men that they are literally hungry for the truth. 
They want to know the strong, virile, manly Jesus 
Christ that you and I know. ’ ’ 

“You’re right, Chris, and I am in for telling the 
men the best way I can.” 

On another occasion a would-be “tough guy” 
thought he would show off in front of Chris. He 
belittled all things sacred, but he found a man in 
front of him who would defend the faith and if need 
be with physical force. 

“Hell, I don’t believe in a God or any of that 
Christian bunk,” said Mr. Wise Guy. 

Christy frankly told his new acquaintance what a 
foolish remark that was. The fellow was very hostile 


54 


Yank — The Crusader 


because Chris did not mince words or give them a 
double meaning. He left the hut in a furious heat of 
rank, unsportsmanlike passion. 

Several days later Chris walked along a row of 
stables and happened to meet Mr. Tough Guy, and 
as he was always smiling and happy, greeted Toughy, 
“Good afternoon, and how are youT^ 

The bull-headed one scoffed, “The hell you say, 
you pale-faced Christian.^’ 

Christy warned his antagonist. Mr. Tough Guy, 
even though much taller and heavier than his op- 
ponent, fell victim to Christy’s fighting prowess. 

That night the hut had a visitor who was patched 
up and rather dark around the eyes. He had decided 
to fall victim to Christy’s religion. 

“I never saw a fellow like you,” said Private 
Barney to Christy. “I am sorry we quarreled.” 
The way he looked showed the truth of his statement. 

“Never mind, old pal, come into my office tonight 
when the show is over and we will talk things over. ’ ’ 
Barney took advantage of the invitation and that 
night before they parted they were both down on 
bended knee praying to their heavenly Father. 

One day in front of a bunch of the boys. Sergeant 
Malone was being kidded by one of the men because 
he attended the closing devotionals that Chris held 
every night in the hut. The sergeant did not mind 
being kidded himself, but the guilty party went one 
too far when he included Christy’s name in one of 
his remarks. 

The sergeant gave the man a chance to recall his 
statement, but foolishly and sadly for him, he stuck 
to his remark, the main reason being that his bluff 
was called. A good, old-time exciting fist fight fol- 
lowed, bringing victory and the added admiration of 
his company to the sergeant. 


PART II 


CHAPTER Vn 


FRED’S TRIP AT UNCLE SAM’S EXPENSE 

The train pulled out of Fargo carrying our hero. 
By his awkward and restless actions it was plain to 
be seen that he had never traveled before. 

The train pulled into a division town where it 
took on fuel. This was the biggest town Fred had 
ever been in and his curiosity led him as far as the 
depot. 

An old slicker who was traveling on the same 
train took advantage of this opportunity of making 
the acquaintance of his intended victim. ‘ ‘ Friend, ^ ^ 
said he, take it that you are a stranger in this 
town. ’ ’ 

‘^Yes sir, I am,’’ said Fred in a big-hearted man- 
ner. 

‘^We have twenty minutes here and nothing to 
do. How would you like to see the place?” 

Fred’s face brightened up for the first time 
since he waved his last good-bye. His lone- 
some longing would have led him to make friends 
with a rattlesnake. ^^By gosh, I’d like to be a doin’ 
or a goin’ or somethin’, but gee, I don’t want you to 
be losing any time on me.” 

‘^My name is John Bustem,” said the slicker, ex- 
tending his hand to Fred. 

‘^My name is Fred Sheldon,” said the cowboy, 
heartily. 

They walked along Main street, Bustem doing 
most of the talking, trying his best to miss the train. 
Fred was a bit nervous; he watched the town clock 


57 


Fred* s Trip at Uncle Sam* s Expense 

and insisted on getting back to the train, so Bnstem^s 
first step to trim the cowboy was frustrated. 

‘^Fred, my friend, I am traveling alone and feel 
a bit lonesome. What do you say, shall we sit to- 
gether for the rest of the journey? 

‘‘Eeckon we can if the railroad company don^t 
mind. ^ ’ 

Together they sat, swapping family history; 
however, Bustem did most of the talking, smoothly 
alluding to the scenery now and then. 

^^My mother and sisters were all killed a few 
weeks ago and I have not been myself since, said 
Bustem, endeavoring to gain Fredas sjrmpathy. He 
made this statement when Fred had confided 
in him the experiences of the last few days at 
home, the farewell and the collection the neigh- 
bors had given him and his ambition to buy his 
Molly an engagement ring with the money his ad- 
miring friends had given him. 

^ ‘ Since the loved ones have passed away I haven ^t 
been able to work (he almost cried at this point), 
my heart is broken, I don ’t sleep nights. Financially 
I am ruined. It cost a young fortune to send the 
bodies back east to be buried and the worst of all 
is I have had to sell some of the family treasures in 
order to meet all these obligations. All I have left 
are some precious pieces of jewelry that I prized 
most. My sister ^s wonderful diamond engagement 
ring is one of the pieces. Now I must sell it. Why, 
my dear boy, I would rather see your bride-to-be 
wear it than anyone else on earth. You have meant 
so much to me in the short time we have known each 
other. Yes, I understand that ring cost my sister ^s 
beau seven hundred dollars.’^ 

^^Gee, Pd sure love to see that ring on Molly ^s 
hand but, gosh, I don^t reckon I have enough of the 
long-green. ^ ^ 


58 


Yank — The Crusader 


‘‘Beggars can^t be choosers in such matters. 
How much have you?^^ 

‘ ‘ One hundred thirty-one dollars and thirty- three 
cents in the handkerchief and forty-five dollars in 
my pocket. 

“Too bad; it^s a terrible sacrifice to give a ring 
of such value at such a price, but I must eat. ^ ' 

“Man, I^d sure like to take a look at that ring,^^ 
said Fred expectantly. 

“A pleasure! a pleasure! He then guardedly 
pulled out of his pocket a wonderful imitation stone 
for which he had paid at least two dollars and 
twenty-five cents some days before. It was really a 
very attractive imitation, sparkling and glistening 
beautifully while the slicker held it in the sunlight. 
It almost outshone the brightest evening star. 

‘ ‘ Gosh ! Molly will go wild over that stone. The 
bargain is sealed as far as I am concerned, said 
cowboy Fred Sheldon, as he opened his bag in search 
of the little handkerchief containing the money. 

They were pulling into a station and as luck 
would have it, a former victim of Bustem’s stepped 
into their car. The slicker noticed him instantly and 
became very restless while Fred was hunting for 
the money. 

Fred finally found the bandana containing the 
coin and then went into his pocket for the rest when 
he noticed the nervous twitching of his friend 
Bustem. 

“You are not sick, are youF’ inquired Fred. 

“No, no; hurry up with that coin,’^ he whispere(i 
in a sneaking way. 

Eight there Fred’s suspicions were aroused and 
for the first time he noticed the stranger who was 
then looking “swords and daggers” at Bustem. 
Buying and selling cattle had given Fred a fair idea 
of how to deal with men. He knew that when a man 


59 


Fredas Trip at Uncle Sam's Expense 

tried to hurry a sale it was high time to be making 
a second inspection of the article. 

‘‘Reckon you don^t mind my looking at that ring 
again/ ^ said Fred inquisitively. 

Thinking he could work the bluff, Bustem clever- 
ly slipped the ring to Fred and whispered, ‘ ‘ Isn ’t it 
a darling, a perfect beauty ! ’ ^ 

Just about this time the stranger interceded. 
“What the hell are you doing? Up to that damned 
old ring-selling gag again. You and I have a little 
deal to settle and then you and the cowboy can pro- 
ceed with your deal.^^ 

“Stranger, you have made a mistake; you are 
doing me an injustice. I ’ll have you arrested if you 
don’t withdraw your assertion.” As he was reach- 
ing for his hip pocket the stranger dealt him a blow 
in the jaw. 

Bustem was turned over to the railroad authori- 
ties and his case disposed of by severe punishment 
from Uncle Sam. 

Fred’s first worldly experience taught him a good 
lesson and from then on he lost that “ever-trust- 
everyone ’ ’ habit. He was surprised to say the least, 
but very grateful to the stranger. “Say, pal, you 
have sure saved me a heap. Won’t you sit down and 
tell me about that bronco ? ’ ’ 

“Sure, I am not a saint by a long shot but I’ll be 
damned if I’ll let such a guy pull the same wool over 
my eyes twice,” 

During the course of their conversation they 
learned that they were on the same mission and en- 
joying a ride at Uncle Sam’s expense and spent most 
of the time together. 

A little later in the day the atmosphere of the car 
was greatly changed. Many of its occupants were 
enlisted men or men on their way to enlist. At the 
last town at which they stopped they picked up four 


60 


Yank — The Crusader 


negroes. One had a banjo, another the bones, still 
another a mouth harp and the last a wonderful tenor 
voice. They had spent their youth together and had 
grown up singing, playing and working. Their 
daddy ^s old “massa^^ was a Confederate officer and 
from his many stories of the battlefield they derived 
their fighting spirit. 

A great treat was in store for the men as the 
music those darkies rendered was very fine indeed. 
The darktown quartette sang and the more they 
sang the larger grew their audience. 

The train pulled into a big southern depot. A 
military band waited to welcome the little bunch of 
volunteers. They paraded up and down the main 
streets of the city for over an hour. All along 
the line of march the high-spirited lads were 
encouraged by the cheering of onlookers. The boys 
were anything but in step. However, the 
people were not looking at their feet. This march 
was long remembered by Fred. They wanted him to 
check his luggage at the depot but his ex- 
perience with Bustem made him a bit over-cautious 
so he decided to carry that home-made bag 
on his shoulders all through that busy Texas city. 
The rest of the men followed Fred’s example and 
carried their baggage. It was an unsual sight. 
They looked like a bunch of immigrants except for 
the fact that there was a something in their expres- 
sion and manner that belied such a thought. 

The march was over and the splendid Red Cross 
women gave the boys a great feed and a capital 
entertainment. One of the motherly women be- 
friended Fred and before they had to part she had 
helped him to choose and send Molly’s engagement 
ring. (Enough good cannot be said for the unselfish 
American women who so nobly served their country 
through the Red Cross, and the desire of the men to 


61 


Fredas Trip at Uncle Sam’s Expense 

be worthy of protecting such women was greatly 
strengthened by their influence.) 

The next morning the men were sent to the re- 
cruiting barracks where they underwent physical 
and mental examinations. They were then given the 
famous ‘ ^ shots-in-the-arm ^ ^ and sent to their train- 
ing company. 

The drill sergeant was an Irishman of only a few 
summers in America and he in himself was good 
timber for the leading part in any comedy. 

^‘Biys, yes’ll ’ave to be attintive if yes’ll be sol- 
diers. Ye is sure an awkward bunch but I ’ave ’ad 
worse ’an the like o’ ye before.” 

^‘Attintion.” 

” Jis step out ’ere an’ take a look at yessilf,” said 
the sergeant a bit disgusted but somewhat amused. 

The many poses of attention were more or less 
characteristic of an ancient city in ruins; one man 
leaning forward, another standing on one foot, an- 
other star-gazing, another humpbacked, another 
straight from the head up with someone else straight 
from the feet down. 

The sergeant’s troubles had begun but neverthe- 
less in a week’s time he had the boys keeping step, 
doing their facings and making a fairly good 
attempt at carrying themselves in a military man- 
ner. i. 

The cowboy was very popular with the men and 
made many friends, some good and some bad. 

Crap-shooting is one of the old army standbys. 
The excitement and chance of the game appealed to 
Fred’s nature. The first night he rolled the bones 
he came out a big winner. If Fred had only known 
that the loser of the eighty dollars could ill atford 
to lose the money our big-hearted cowboy would have 
returned it to the weak individual. 


62 


Yank — The Crusader 


Corporal Ben Wiseman was the wise-guy of 
Fred’s company. He spent most of his time giving 
advice and telling of his past which included a few 
terms in the guardhouse. Yes, he even told his 
superior officers where to get off at. Gee! he was 
tough — in his own estimation. He was so tough he 
ate pancakes for breakfast, coffee and bread at din- 
ner and a hunk of meat at supper! He was sure a 
barbarian! 

It was a show well worth the price of admission 
to listen to Cook Hartman mimic Corporal Wiseman. 
He cocked his hat over his right ear and vehemently 
puffed on a cigarette as his audience listened to him 
imitate Wiseman thus, telling several of Bud’s fav- 
orite ones. ^‘Boys, while on a trip in Alaska we 
went hungry for four or five days, when we came on 
a bunch of Eskimos. I only had five cartridges left 
in my old revolver, but say it was my only chance to 
live and I plunks two of them and the rest took to 
the tall timber. No one could have made me believe 
it until I tasted it, that human flesh was good eating. 

^‘You know when I was only a kid of highschool 
age my old man ran a general store. A bunch of the 
old lumberjacks heard about a shipment of guns my 
father received and they stole them that night. The 
sheriff of the town got up a gang to hunt the thieves 
down and when I heard of it I made up my mind to 
catch those criminals single handed, so I starts out 
with my old betsy and my purp and after walking 
through the woods for five or six hours I spied the 
lumberjacks and sneaked up on them and all twenty 
of them threw up their hands while I gathered the 
twenty rifles. I ordered them to march ahead of me 
while I carried the guns to town. That’s how I 
made my first thousand dollars, a reward.” 


63 


Fredas Trip at Uncle Sam's Expense 

When cook Hartman finished the men would be 
in an uproar, almost splitting their sides from having 
their funny bones tickled by such impossible yarns. 

The cook ^s conclusion was made in the following 
words, ^‘One day I kept account of old Wiseman ^s 
experience and found that he had only lived a 
hundred and thirty years. ’ ^ 

More laughter and much applause. 

Ben like the rest of the men took a liking to the 
big cowboy and started philosophizing on him. He 
really roped Fred in on some of his “dope^^ because 
he was more cautious not to cheapen himself in 
Fredas estimation. 

^‘Fred, what do you say we hit for the lighted 
city tonight,^’ said Ben. 

Feeling ‘ ^ flush after a successful night with the 
dice old Fred was jubilant enough to try anything. 
“Sure I am with you, but I reckon youdl have to 
lead the way.’^ 

“Why boy, I know all the Janes in the burg and 
where we can get all liquored up. Why, they turn 
over the whole town to me every time I step out. ^ ^ 

^ ‘ I reckon you Jl have to leave me out of that kind 
of dope. All I want is to see the sights. 

“Boy, IJl show you the time of your young life.“ 

That night the boys stood retreat and “beat it“ 
down to a cafe and ate a regular supper. They at- 
tended a burlesque which catered to their lower pas- 
sions and having only a few drinks they returned to 
their barracks, morally 0. K. 

The next day drill and also supper over, up 
through the sleeping quarters went the old familiar 
call, “Crap-game in the upper hall!^’ Fred was 
soon in the midst of a most disastrous game — for his 
pocketbook. He went broke. 


64 


Yank — The Crusader 


He felt lost without any spending money so he 
thought of sending home for some, but he was too 
proud to do that, so he resorted to borrowing from 
his comrades. It was an easy matter for him to bor- 
row twenty-five dollars. That night Corporal Wise- 
man and he again meandered toward the bright 
lights. 

Fred was discouraged and discontented when he 
thought of his financial condition and his indebted- 
ness made him lose his own self-respect and thus he 
gave way to heavy drinking. 

^^Sh-sh-ay Fred-hic-hic wh-what hic-do you hic- 
say we hic-visit the mad-mad-dames, ’ ^ said Bud in 
a staggering stupor. 

They turned in that direction but as Fred went 
into his pocket for a match he pulled out a letter 
from Molly and even though under the influence of 
liquor he plucked up enough courage to resist this 
temptation and was soon in his bunk asleep. 



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CHAPTER Vin 

CHRISTY STRONG DRAFTED AND HIS TRIP TO CAMP 

^‘Christy, old boy, the men are sorry to have you 
leave. ^ ^ 

^‘1^11 tell you corporal Dan, I am sorry and happy 
both. Sorry because I must leave so many friends; 
sorry that I canT carry on the good work with you. 
I am happy for the opportunity of having been with 
you all here. I am anxious to show these boys that 
as a soldier I can fight the good fight and keep the 
faith. 

‘‘Boy, I know you’ll make good. It can’t be 
otherwise. ’ ’ 

“Thanks corporal, I know I’ll have your pray- 
ers.” 

“You can be damned sure of that,” exclaimed 
Corporal Dan. 

That night in the hut Chris gave a goodbye talk 
to the men. It was short and to the point holding 
up the ideal of a victorious life. 

A number of Christy’s closest friends had 
planned a surprise for him and in one of the class- 
rooms they set up a fine banquet while he was deliv- 
ering his farewell talk. 

Sergeant Hayes who acted as spokesman for the 
occasion called Chris to one side and before the guest 
of honor knew it he was in the little classroom, his 
cheering companions chose as the banqueting hall. 

“Men let’s find our seats before we start the 
activities of the evening,” said the toastmaster. 

On both sides of Christy sat men joking and en- 
couraging him. 


66 


Yank — The Crusader 


One would exclaim, ^‘Wait till I get you in my 
company. I sure will make you work for a change. ^ ^ 

Another would chime in, Colonel Christy, I re- 
port to you as orderly, ’ ^ and thus was the whole hour 
of feasting spent in kidding Christy. 

Not a crumb was left when Hayes called the men 
to attention. ‘^The festivities of the evening will 
start. Private Williams will start the program with 
one of his coon songs. 

Much applause followed the comedian’s selec- 
tions. 

The program was put on by soldier talent and 
equaled any first class vaudeville. 

‘‘Horseshoer Hale has a few words to say,” said 
Sergeant Hayes. 

Christy’s right hand man stood up and paid him 
the following tribute. ‘^Men we’ll miss Christy. 
We will always remember him as a kind, thoughtful, 
faithful and persistent fellow, always standing and 
fighting for the right things in men’s lives. I have 
known Christy the secretary. I have known 
Christy, the man. You know him as the secretary 
so I am going to take a few minutes telling you of 
Christy, the man. 

^ ‘ He and I have palled together in our spare time. 
We have gone to the theater; we have played ball to- 
gether; we have hiked in God’s out-of-doors and we 
have bunked together and in all his ways I have 
found him true blue, impelled only by the highest 
motives. He loves a good time, that is, a good, good 
time and every day all of us witness the great 
pleasure he gets out of life by his smile that is 
famous throughout the whole camp. 

‘^Yes, I repeat we shall miss Christy because he 
is somebody — somebody hard to replace. ’ ’ 

Poor Christy was all blushes and for the moment 
tongue-tied. ^ ‘ Say fellows, my mind is empty while 


67 


Christy Drafted and His Trip to Camp 

my heart is filled to overflowing. Men it has been a 
pleasure and a privilege to serve you. I am sure 
that only pleasant memories will be our thoughts 
of our past relationship. May God bless and keep 
you always.” 

Barney was the first to grab Christy ^s hand, 
Chris write often and give an account of yourself. 
Gosh I hate to see you go.” 

‘‘Barney, you know I’ll remember you and 
often.” 

“Say, what’s the big idea. Are you going to 
hold Christy’s hand all night,” shouted Wagoner 
Pitman as he pushed Barney aside and took Christy’s 
hand trying his favorite stunt of outgripping the 
other fellow. “Ouch, cut it out you big stiff,” he 
yelled as he found more than his match in Christy. 
‘ ‘ Chris old podunk, you have sure got me athinking 
about that Bible dope and I’m a- guessing you’re 
right. Wlien you are not busy remember me some- 
how. ’ ’ 

“You bet I will,” said our friend and the proces- 
sion continued until every man in the building had 
shaken hands with Christy. 

The last in that line was generally first in all 
others but he had a good reason for being last. 
Aviator Rimback put his hand on Christy ’s shoulder 
and said, “Kid, what do you say we take a little 
hike in the moonlight.” 

‘ ‘ Glad to do it, Rimmy. You know your pleasure 
is my delight.” 

Rimmy was full of fantangled ideas or fancies 
that tangled. “Kid, what do you say we trade 
rings? I’ll give you my girl’s ring for the one you 
are wearing. When the war is over we will meet, 
have a big celebration and return rings. You see in 
this way we will think of each other often.” 


68 


Yank — The Crusader 


^‘All right, Riminy, I couldn^t refuse such an en- 
ticing offer,*’ he said laughingly and they made the 
trade. 

The next morning Buck, Christy’s boss, Rimback, 
and horseshoer Hale went down to the train with 
Christy. 

The whistle blew and the train pulled out sep- 
arating Christy from the men of his heart. 

The men walked back to camp, each relating some 
incident where Christy was hero; seemingly each 
trying to outdo the other. 

Christy was comfortably seated reading some 
literature he had been longing to read for some time 
when an elderly woman across the aisle said, ‘ ‘ Good 
morning Mr. Y. M. C. A. man. Won’t you come and 
sit with husband and me while I am knitting this 
Red Cross sweater. I’d like to hear something about 
our boys.” 

Thank you, madam, for your kind invitation,” 
he said as he laid his book down. 

‘‘How many men do you think are now at Camp 
F 

“Madam, I am instructed and bound by honor 
not to peddle such information. ” 

“Pardon me. You see I have two sons in the 
army and I am always so anxious to know what is 
going on in military circles.” 

“I feel it an honor to speak to the mother of two 
fighting men,” said Chris. 

“My sons, the one in France and one in Camp 

F , both speak so highly of the work you ‘Y’ 

men are doing.” 

“That does my heart good, even though I am 
changing uniforms,” said Christy. 

“You don’t mean that you are going to give up 
the ‘Y’ work to go into the army?” 

“Yes, ma’am, I am drafted.” 


69 


Christy Drafted and His Trip to Camp 

**Why I never knew they could draft a Y. M. 
C. A. man, ^ ’ exclaimed the elderly woman. 

^‘Yes ma’am, it must he. ^ The good will of the 
army men must he preserved. ' The Y. M. C. A. work 
is no place for draft dodgers.” 

‘‘Mrs. Colman is my name. We have just fin- 
ished a little stay with our son and are on our way 
back home.” 

“I am delighted to meet you, my name is Christy 
Strong. I am going home to spend a week with the 
folks before going into the army.” 

“Mr. Strong I am glad to know you. Why that 
name sounds so familiar,” she said thoughtfully and 
then she put her hand into her large knitting bag 
and pulled out a bundle of letters. They had 
a worn look as no doubt mother had read her son’s 
letters many times. 

After several minutes she found the one she 
wanted and read this paragraph to herself: 

‘ ‘ Mother dear, tonight I am sending you the best 
I have to assure you that from now on I am going to 
lead a Christian life, by God’s help. I have made 
friends with one of the dandiest young fellows in 
the world, a Y. M. C. A. secretary. He has told me 
why I should take such a step. Gee! I wish you 
could meet Christy Strong, I just know you’d like 
him.” Mrs. Colman could hardly control her de- 
light. She wanted to tell Christy about that sacred 
piece of news but — 

“Mrs. Colman I am wondering if you happen to 
know a friend of mine by the name of Tom Colman. ’ ’ 

“I happen to know Tom the best way in the 
world, only as a mother can know a son.” 

“Isn’t this a peculiar coincidence? Now I under- 
stand why I haven’t seen the boy for a couple of 
weeks.” 


70 


Yank — The Crusader 


The ride lasted several days and nights before 
the conductor called the town of Christy’s destina- 
tion. 

It was a pleasant surprise for his folks, as he 
had told them nothing of his home coming. 

*^Why Christy,” said mother Strong as if she 
were awakening from a pleasant dream. 

‘‘Yes mother dear it’s I,” he explained as he 
embraced and kissed her. 

“Your dad will be so glad to see you.” 

“I surely hope so for I know I will be glad to see 
him.” That night in the Strong home there was 
great jollification. 

The next day he visited many friends. Among 
them was the one you know he could not and would 
not miss. “Well, well, Christy. When did you re- 
turn?” smiled Helen as she opened wide the door 
of her home. 

“Helen, it seems so good to see you. How are 
the folks and how are you?” 

“Everyone is well and happy and as for me I 
am quite well, thank you,” she replied rather sharply 
as she noticed a girl’s ring on his finger. “Oh 
mother, someone is here to see you.” 

Mrs. Grant hurried to the door and when she 
saw the visitor she invited him into the parlor. 

Mother Grant and Christy spent several hours 
relating pleasant memories of old days. Recollec- 
tion of her play days increased Helen’s jealousy of 
that ring. In fact if it had not been for that ring 
Christy’s chances as a suitor would have been far 
greater. 

“Goodbye folks. It is time I am on my way.” 

“But Christy you must stay for supper,” said 
Mrs. Grant. 


71 


Christy Drafted and His Trip to Camp 

^ ^ Thank you just the same but it is someone else ^s 
misfortune to entertain me at that hour. ^ ^ 

‘ ^ Tomorrow then you must dine with us. ^ ^ 

‘‘I’ll do so if Helen will accept my invitation to 
the theater.” 

“She will do that,” smiled Mrs. Grant. 

“She hasn’t said so,” replied Christy, with a 
faint heart. 

“Why Christy, you know I wouldn’t say no.” 

“All right. I’ll accept. Goodbye for the last time 
tonight. ’ ’ 

“Goodbye,” said Mrs. Grant, her eyes almost 
popping with admiration as she watched her choice 
for her favorite daughter walk out of sight. 

Helen also said “Goodbye,” but it had a ring 
that worried Chris. 

He filled his engagement that night in the hos- 
pitable home of his family physician. Doctor Mar- 
tin. 

“Christy, you are on time as usual. The wife 
will soon be ready for supper, in the meantime let 
us have a little chat in my library.” 

“All right Doctor.” 

“My boy, it was my privilege to bring you into 
this world. I have watched you grow from infancy 
to manhood. I know your capabilities. The next 
few minutes I desire to tell you that your friends ex- 
pect much from you. They all want you to have 
your commission. You know that if you would work 
your pull with the senators you could start up the 
ladder of advancement.” 

“Doctor, if I have to pull any strings to make 
good I’ll not get very far. I have made up my mind 
to do my best no matter where I am. If my best 
deserves a commission all well and good.” 


72 


Yank — The Crusader 


^‘My boy, there isn^t any doubt that your best 
will deserve much, but listen to one who knows. A 
man is not always rewarded according to his tal- 
ents. ’ ’ 

‘‘I have decided. Doctor, that there is only one 
place I wish to win a commission, and that is on 
the battlefield.^^ 

‘^Boy, that is your trouble. You are too con- 
founded sentimental. You would do well to take 
my advice.’’ 

^‘Doctor, I appreciate your interest in my wel- 
fare. I am confident however, that I’ll be placed 
where I am needed most. ’ ’ 

‘‘Supper is ready,” called the hospitable Mrs. 
Martin. 

The next day Christy, true to his promise ate 
supper at the Grants, the first in nine years. 

Arm in arm Helen and he strolled toward the 
theater. Christy was almost afraid to break the 
silence that started the minute they left her home. 

“Helen, aren’t we having an exciting time,” he 
ventured. 

“Christy, I am surprised to see you are wearing 
a girl’s ring.” 

He broke into a big, hearty laughter as he ex- 
plained the bargain between Eimback and himself. 
It amused him to know that a little thing like that 
bothered her. 

She did not realize that she was betraying her 
real interest in Christy. 

« « • 

The time was not very long until Christy, with 
four hundred other drafted men were speeding 
toward a southern cantonment. 


73 


Christy Draped and His Trip to Camp 

The Red Cross again made itself useful by pro- 
viding some little military necessities and sending 
the men on their way with a smile. 

One of the men who commenced to feel the pe- 
culiar freedom which results from breaking home 
ties remarked, ‘‘From now on I am out for a good 
time. ’ ’ 

“Make it a good, good time,’^ returned Christy. 

The men soon knew Christy and enjoyed him. 
They knew he stood for the better things and 
though he never paraded his virtues he naturally 
found a place in the admiration of all the men. 

A young man of education, who had many ad- 
vantages as far as mental attainments were con- 
cerned sat in the same car with Christy. In his own 
estimation the sun would look dark in comparison 
with the brightness that gleamed forth from his shin- 
ing countenance. 

He sought to engage Christy in an argument that 
was more or less obnoxious to our friend Chris; how- 
ever, the learned young man introduced himself. 
“My name is Mr. TVed Jude, lawyer, of D 

“I am mighty proud to make your acquaint- 
ance, ’ ’ said Christy, extending his hand, ‘ ‘ and mine 
is Christy Strong.^’ 

“Mr. Strong, I am so glad you are with us. I 
have been hoping to find a college man to speak to. ^ ’ 

“Yes, but why single me out, there are so many 
such men in the car. ^ ’ 

“Oh, of course Mr. Strong, if you donT desire 
my company I can — 

“You misunderstood me. You must sit down 
and feel at home Mr. Jude.^’ 

“There is a subject that interests me and I have 
no doubt interests you,’^ started Mr. Jude. 


74 


Yank — The Crusader 


sure I will be interested/^ 

^*You see, Mr. Strong 

‘^Excuse me but I am indebted to you if you will 
call me Christy. ’ ’ 

^^Well then Christy, when I was a young kid I 
went to Sunday school and read the Bible because 
my mother told me to, but since I have studied 
science I am forced to tell you that Christianity is 
mighty impractical.^^ 

am sorry that you have misled yourself into 
such a conclusion,’^ returned Christy rather sharply 
and half sorry for the argument that was bound to 
follow. He would rather take a beating than argue 
but in that case he had to show his colors. ^‘Of 
course I admit that if the practice of righteousness 
is impractical, so is Christianity.” 

Tommy rot! that isn’t what I am bothered 
about. This heaven and hell stuff, this soul stuff 
makes me laugh. No one has ever been able to con- 
vince me of its truth. ’ ’ 

‘‘Well, my dear friend, we are not going into a 
lengthy discussion on this subject because to weigh 
every word and thought of this topic would require 
some time. However, let me tell you ‘this soul 
stutf,’ as you call it wouldn’t be a laughing matter 
with you, my friend, if you could have witnessed the 
sight I saw not so very long ago. 

“An epidemic came along and took the lives of 
many of our soldier boys at a camp in this country. 
Sir, I saw a hundred or more of those big bucks ly- 
ing on their backs motionless and cold. Man! as I 
looked at them stretched out, merely clay images, 
merely changeable mixtures of elements, the idea 
struck me that something better had left their old 
bodies. Yes, something better had left them, their 
life which I often term soul, that something that 


75 


Christy Drafted and His Trip to Camp 

pilots a man’s conscience, that something that makes 
men live up to their ideals, that motive power that 
directs the movements of the smallest muscle in the 
body. Yes that something had left them, leaving 
their old bodies to return to dust.” 

Mr. Jude said no more and so a silence followed. 

The remainder of the trip was pleasant, the men 
sang and joked and had a regular good time. 

They reached the camp in good spirits and when 
they stepped from the train a sergeant lined them 
up and directed them to the casual camp. 


CHAPTER IX 


CHRISTY FINDS A NEW DEMOCRACY IN THE ARMY 

Christy enjoyed a close touch with the men of 
the army while a ‘‘Y’’ man bnt he had to he one of 
them before he come to know the real soldier. 

The army like the country from which it devel- 
oped was made up of the country’s best and worst 
men. Some of the best had some bad in them, 
while some of the worst had some good in them. 
The full force of the value of the pooUng of person- 
alities which was brought about by the mobilization 
of our army was most evident here. 

The twenty-seven men from Christy’s district 
were marched to company twenty-four, while the 
rest of the men were distributed to the other com- 
panies. 

First Sergeant Kline, an old campaigner gave the 
following instructions, ‘‘Corporal Nelson, take these 
men down to the bath house after you have assigned 
them to their tents. ’ ’ 

“Yes, sir,” came the prompt reply. 

‘ ‘ The idea of forcing a man to take a bath, ’ ’ said 
one of the new men. 

“Some would never take a bath otherwise; per- 
sonally I am glad of the opportunity,” chimed in 
another. 

“It isn’t the bath I mind, but to be ordered,” 
said another. 

“Oh, pshaw,” said one who didn’t enjoy listen- 
ing to the kicking, “I imagine the water and soap 
will have the same effect on the skin.” 


77 


Christy Finds a New Democracy in the Army 

Thus argued the men pro and con until they were 
clean from the dust of the trip and their crankiness 
all washed away. 

‘‘Now fellows we will go to the supply tent and 
draw our first equipment which consists of a mess- 
kit, folding cot, barrack bag, straw tick and several 
blankets.^’ 

On the way to the tent Jude said, “Christy, the 
corporal seems to be a pretty fine fellow. ^ ^ 

“That^s how he impressed me,’^ returned 
Christy. 

“Now men leCs take the ticks down to the straw 
pile to fill them.^^ 

“Ha, ha, ha, say old boy, what^s the idea of filling 
your barrack bag with straw ? ^ ^ Christy asked Shorty 
Duncan with a burst of laughter that was backed up 
by a rather boisterous chorus as Shorty, half put out 
over his first error said, “I don^t see any medals on 
your chest for brains.’^ 

The bunch laughed twice as hard and soon had 
enough straw in their ticks to make them com- 
fortable. 

Dinner was several hours away when the corporal 
told them: “The time between now and chow is 
yours. 

“Golly, I wonder how these army meals taste, 
ventured one. 

“I am so cussed hungry I could eat my own cook- 
ing,^' said another. 

The whistle blew and the hungry men needed no 
more coaxing. 

‘ ‘ Say, boy you eat that roast beef as though your 
meat diet had been neglected before now.^^ 

“I notice you’re not wasting any,” returned the 
criticized young man. 

“Man, that is the first real wheat bread I have 
eaten for many a day,” said one. 


78 


Yank — The Crusader 


‘‘You bet, the same here. Now I see where the 
wheat bread goes,^’ replied another. 

During the next four or five days trainload after 
trainload of men pulled into camp, some from this 
state, some from another. It beat any labor day 
parade ! A bunch of farmers, then a number of cow- 
boys, miners, backwoodsmen, Mexicans, yes, men 
from all walks of life: the lawyer, the banker, the 
saloonkeeper, the merchant, the laborer and the bum 
all marched to the inspecting barrack. Many a man 
was separated from old John Barleycorn by the offi- 
cer in charge. 

Soon all the men were assigned to their compan- 
ies. Then real business started. 

There is a certain group of men in the army that 
beat any newspaper in the world when it comes to 
spreading rumors. Generally they coined their own 
stories and the first one they let loose in casual camp 
was that the camp was quarantined for twenty-one 
days. 

“Goodnight, just to think that we canT leave 
these old sandy streets, these tent mansions for 
twenty-one days,’^ said one of the men. 

“That’s a hell of a note,” piped old Shorty Dun- 
can. 

“Wow! we will go crazy for want of entertain- 
ment, ’ ’ said another. 

“I am sure there is some talent in camp,” re- 
turned Christy. 

The next few days the men went through their 
primary training in the school of the soldier. When 
they lined up for drill there was the Italian, with 
his red bandana, the Mex, the dude with his bally- 
eye glass, the patched-up tramp, the cowpuncher in 
his leather chaps all in the same squad learning to 
do “squads east” and “west.” 


79 


Christy Finds a New Democracy in the Army 

*^Gee! pard, we get those shots in the arm to- 
morrow. One of the corporals told me just two min- 
utes 

‘^That^s damned foolishness/^ said Shorty with 
his usual love for fighting all things. 

friends, these inoculations for typhoid and 
dyptheria are of inestimable value to the army. Be- 
fore this system was introduced into our army, al- 
most as many men died of these diseases as were 
wounded and killed. Today a case of either is prac- 
tically unheard of,^^ said Christy who spoke the ab- 
solute truth. 

‘^We get shot at sunrise, was the first remark 
from an early riser. He made a mistake, however, 
for the shooting hour was changed to sunset. 

^‘Say wasnT that old doctor a regular butcher, 
the one that stabbed you Chris, said Jude. 

‘‘Yea bo, Ifil say so,^’ returned Chris, “he did it 
so fast I could hardly realize it was over. ^ ^ 

“For the love of Pete, we have to take it twice 
more.’^ 

“Cheer up Shorty, the worst is yet to come,’’ 
cheered one of his comrades. 

“Boys I have some good news,” said Phil Menar, 
Christy’s buddie and tentmate. 

‘ ‘ More rumors, ’ ’ sneered one. 

‘ ‘ Out with it, always anxious for news from 
home.” 

“Here goes, captain so-and-so told lieutenant 

what ’s-his-name when Corporal D was almost 

within hearing distance, who told me, that we get 
our uniforms tomorrow.” 

“Here’s hoping you’re right.” 

“Won’t old Shorty make a great looking sol- 
dier,” laughed one of the men. 

“Yea bo, all the women will go wild over him,” 
kidded another. 


80 


Yank — The Crusader 


‘‘Say boy, if you tried to follow me you’d last 
about one night,” said Shorty. 

“Ha, ha,” kidded the other, “why boy, if I fol- 
lowed you I’d set a safety match afire.” 

The next day the men were nursing their stiff 
arms but were a happy gang when they were ordered 
to draw their uniforms and after supper they amused 
themselves by trying on their clothes. 

“Christy be careful and don’t bend over or 
you’ll need a tailor,” chuckled Shorty. 

“Never mind Shorty, what is that, a khaki night- 
dress you are trying on. It should keep you warm, ’ ’ 
smiled Christy. 

“Christy, these leggins must be made for barrel 
covers,” said Phil. 

“Yes, take a look at these tin lizzies,” said an- 
other pointing at a pair of oversized boots. 

The next day there was a long line of men ex- 
changing misfit clothing at the quartermaster ware- 
house. 

“Wouldn’t that cork your preserves! Look at 
little sister lovelyface strutting up the street with 
his hat cocked on one ear and a cigarette in his hand. 
He is only taking up about half the street with his 
swagger. He is kind enough to leave the other half 
for the rest of us. That poor half-baked prune,” 
snickered Phil. 

“Oh Percival! Oh Percival! I tell you you’ll tear 
the buttons off your coat if you don’t quit struttin’,” 
called old Shorty Duncan. 

“Christy, I witnessed the best show of the sea- 
son this afternoon. Gee! it was good. You know 
that backward bird who boldly butted into our con- 
versation and then had nerve enough to tell us how 
backward and bashful he is. Well that poor boob 
was back of the bathhouse telling our mascot (a bull- 
dog) how tough he is. Why if the show is as good 


81 


Christy Finds a New Democracy in the Army 

as that rehearsal he’ll win the prize.” When Phil 
told this to Chris he could hardly retain his laughter. 

‘ ‘ Some of these men ought to win a diploma from 
the School of Hardhoils, that is if sham and acting 
win them. It is really amusing to watch some of 
these country ginks and penpushers try to be tough, ’ ’ 
said one of Christy’s tentmates. 

‘‘There is a degree of pardonable pride permis- 
sible in the wearing of Uncle Sam’s uniform, but this 
tough-guy attitude is mighty unsoldierly and to say 
the least, disgusting,” said Christy. 

“Those are my sentiments exactly,” added Phil. 

Many of the men spent their time in letter writ- 
ing, others in getting acquainted, while still others 
slopped up their time by rattling ‘ ‘ them bones. ’ ’ 

Christy did the first two and occasionally watched 
a crap game with the idea of lining up the gamblers 
in his company. 

Two calls were very popular with the new men; 
mess call and mail call. Some day another call would 
appeal to them after a little longer turn in the army, 
namely, pay call. 

“Mail call!” called a corporal and soon he had a 
big crowd around him: 

“Private Smith, 

“Corporal Jones, 

“Private Johnson, 

“Private Strong, etc.” 

The lucky ones smiled from ear to ear while the 
less fortunate showed their disappointment by teas- 
ing the rest. 

“Christy does she still love you.” 

“My dearest honeysuckle,” another chimed in. 

“Oh, how I miss you,” added Shorty Duncan. 

The writing was unfamiliar to Chris and when he 
opened the letter this is what he found: 


82 


Yank — The Crusader 


July 7, 1918. 

Mr. Christy Strong, 

Dear Sir: 

I desire to call to your attention a little matter 
between you and me. If you act according to my 
wishes I’ll forget it. If you continue bothering my 
personal affairs you will find yourself in a big mess 
of trouble. 

The last five years or more Miss Helen Grant and 
I have been keeping company, in fact I am about 
ready to ask her to marry me. 

Since you were last in D she speaks of you 

most of the time and I have a reason to believe you 
took her to a show one night. 

She is my girl and I am advising you to cut out 
the stealing of her affections. 

Signed, 

Bully Harvey. 

P. S. I mean business. 

‘‘Ha, ha! Gee, this is interesting. It’s deep. It’s 
encouraging. It’s a threat and almost scares me,” 
Christy said as he called for aid to hold his sides so 
they would not split. 

“Phil, read this letter.” 

“No Christy, I don’t make a practice of read- 
ing others’ mail.” 

“Yes, but this is so funny, so foolish, so ridicu- 
lous, so full of tragedy and comedy that I know you 
would enjoy the treat, however, I wouldn’t persist,” 
said Christy. 

“I’d like to laugh with you but you’ll excuse me 
this time,” returned Phil. 

Christy became rampant and in the fit of passion 
raved on, “Why, that little chunk of a sister’s sore 
toe, that insignificant good-for-nothing give me some 
trouble. He has done all of that he can when he laid 


83 


Christy Finds a New Democracy in the Army 

the blame of writing on Helen’s sidewalk on my 
shoulders. I guess if Helen didn’t want my com- 
pany she was woman enough to tell me. That yel- 
low degenerate better hide in his hole and keep his 
crooked nose out of my business.” 

The men enjoyed the scene but were half afraid 
to laugh because they were not seeing the Christy 
that they had known. Something had taken posses- 
sion of him for the minute and it was the old devil 
himself. 

Christy had worked himself into such a frenzy 
that it took the rest of the evening for him to’ cool 
off. 

The next day after the drill an Indian of high 
standards and good education introduced himself to 
Christy. ^‘My name is Eed Bull.” 

^ ‘ ^d my name is Christy — ’ ’ 

Never mind boy I have known your name for 
several days,” smiled the chief. 

“You didn’t know very much,” winked Christy. 

“Just to change the subject a bit, how do you 
like the army life?” questioned Chief Eed Bull. 

“Not so worse, how about you?” inquired 
Christy. 

“As a life’s ambition it is far from my line, but 
I am pleased to do my best, which is only too little, 
to help whip the Hun.” 

The men spent the better part of the afternoon 
talking about the things that were and the things 
that are to be. 

Christy’s natural interest in men led him to ask 
his new friend, “I am puzzled to find so many illit- 
erate white men from your section of the country. 
Can you give me an explanation of the situation?” 

“Yes, indeed, I can explain that very easy. 
Around our reservation lived a number of palefaces 
more or less isolated from each other. They were 


84 


Yank — The Crusader 


healthseekers and settled on homesteads many years 
ago and because of their isolated locations could not 
send their children to school. ’ ^ 

‘ ‘ That ’s too bad, but I trust they will make good 
soldiers even with such a handicap. You know that 
in the few moments that we have been together I 
have learned something I couldn’t have learned in 
school. Every man from different parts of the 
country teaches me something new. This army is 
really a wonderful university in itself, ’ ’ said Christy. 

‘‘Yes, Christy, this army gives one a wonderful 
opportunity to study his fellow men which is un- 
doubtedly a great advantage.” 

Three-thirty o’clock and the men fell in for a 
two hours’ drill. When that drill was over some of 
the less thoughtful men remarked, ‘ ‘ Those poor half- 
wits will never do better than crumb the detail.” 
Another said, “They can eat and sleep and that is 
about all. ’ ’ 

The truth is that the first few drills were far 
from the height of perfection, but each man was in a 
degree responsible for the situation; however, as the 
men trained together it was remarkable and inspir- 
ing to notice the wonderful improvement within five 
weeks’ time. 

Supper was over and the men could do as they 
pleased until taps or 10 p. m. Each engaged that 
time according to his own desire, a would-be tough- 
guy invited Christy to the canteen. “Have a cigar 
friend,” said he. 

“Thank you but I don’t use tobacco,” said Chris 
in a pleasant manner. 

“You are sure different than most guys. Well, 
you must have something.” 

“All right friend, just as you say. I’ll have a 
bar of candy and I thank you very much,” Christy 
said. 


85 


Christy Finds a New Democracy in the Army 

^^What do you say we beat it back to the com- 
pany. One of those crap games is calling me. ’ ’ 

‘‘All right friend, but I am asking you if you 
wouldn’t come over to the little Bible class we are 
going to have for a few minutes.” 

‘ ‘ Why Christy, if I went into a Bible-meeting all 
hell would rejoice thinking that they would get rid 
of me.” 

“Pal, I don’t know your name, but if you have 
stated your case correctly may I say for the first 
time, let Satan rejoice because I’d sure be glad to 
see you there.” 

“Nothing doing tonight, some other time.” 

“All right, it shall be as you say, but what did 
you say your name is ? ” 

“Billy Snead of Leadville, a gambler by ill-for- 
tune.” 

The teacher of the class did not arrive so Christy 
was chosen to lead it. Eight men were pres- 
ent. It was a very cosmopolitan gathering, a lawyer, 
a farmer, a banker, a hobo, a merchant, 
a criminal, a sheepherder, and a miner all around the 
mess table and each having an equal right to his 
opinion on the subject. 

Christy thought “I am not going to try to teach 
this lesson. I’ll let these men do that and I’ll direct 
their line of thought. It will be a great thing for 
each fellow to know about the other, it will give them 
a more sympathetic feeling toward one another. ’ ’ 

The topic of the lesson was “The Fighting Man’s 
Fight.” The hobo told the following story: 
“Boys, I was not always a hobo, nor am I by nature, 
but I want to tell you my story because I need yoiir 
help. My sis, Anna, who is a Red Cross nurse in 
France has written me and she speaks of the 
strengthening powers of the Bible. That is why I 
am here tonight. 


86 


Yank — The Crusader 


“Boys I worshipped the very ground my little 
sister Anna walked on. Then she was only sixteen 
and so beautiful. Lovers she had aplenty. My 
God! I never thought anyone could take advantage 
of her innocence, but a lowdown skunk slyly led her 
astray. If I could only get that reprobate he would 
pay fourfold for what he did to my sister. She went 
from worse to worse. It broke her mother ^s heart, 
who soon died. And I, oh how I plead with her, but 
all in vain. 

“Boys, I just couldn’t work. All I could see was 
Anna in her trade of shame. I just couldn’t stand 
it so one afternoon I went out and liquored up in a 
wonderful fashion and for the next ten months I 
drank up all my savings. Yes and I used dope. 
Good God, I crave some now — (the tears trickled 
down his face as he fidgeted for a moment.) 

“Boys I went down and down until I had to beg 
and steal, yes, many’s the night I have spent in jail. 
All those days are over now. Look here, a few weeks 
ago I heard from my sister who I thought and wished 
was dead.” 

The hobo pulled from his hip pocket an old worn 
out leather case from which he took a letter. “Boys, 
I don’t know how this letter ever reached me, but 
listen to what it has to say: 

Somewhere in France, 
May 2, 1918. 

To My Only Brother: 

Dear Carl: I don’t know if this letter will ever 
reach you. I don’t know if you are still alive. I 
do hope you are. 

The last time I saw you was four or five years 
ago. You were in a padded cell where they kept 
cocaine fiends. You were delirious and that day I 
visited you I came there a womout prostitute. I 
came to give you more dope and drag you closer to 


87 


Christy Finds a New Democracy in the Army 

hell. You were out of your head and how you swore. 
You cursed me shamefully and rightly too. Yes, 
dear brother, I came there in scarlet sin, but I left 
there afraid, ashamed and in the spirit of repentance. 

That night I didnT go back to my crib. No, I 
went to a place that all the girls made fun of, the 
‘ ^ Salvation Army. ^ ’ There I met a kind woman who 
reminded me of mother. I had attempted suicide be- 
fore going there but I was too weak, I hadnT eaten 
since morning and then only a small portion. Then 
too I had a terrible fight with my old sins. I wanted 
to die but my punishment was life. 

She nursed me for nearly a year and because of 
my longing for the bad life it was no small job. She 
read me bits of the Bible, ‘ ^ Though your sins 
be as scarlet they shall be as white as snow.’’ 
This I remembered and it gave me strength, 
it gave me reason to live and now I am only sorry 
for one thing and that is, I am not sure of you. 
Brother, I read the Bible each day and it comforts 
me and strengthens me against the horror of sin. If 
this letter reaches you and I pray continually that it 
will, this is my advice: Trust in God, study the 
Bible, and pray. 

The day they called for volunteers to become 
nurses in this beautiful country I felt it an oppor- 
tunity to give comfort, kindness, love and joy to the 
world to make up for my bruised past. I am here 
letting God use me to heal the sick and wounded. 
Dear brother, there is time for us both to do much for 
our brothers and sisters. Oh, how I wish I could 
hear from you. 

Your loving sister, 

Anna Stewart. 

Carl said, ^^Men I still love her, love her all the 
more because she has fought and won. I am asking 


88 Yank — The Crusader 

you to give me a lift in this life that I had almost 
forgotten. ^ ’ 

The following morning private Jude said, 
‘ ‘ Christy, you know since listening to that story last 
night I am forced to say that I feel a little ditferent 
toward the men who are togged out in tramps ’ rags. 
Eeally, there must be a reason for their falling so 
low. It is our duty to help such men.’^ 

^‘Your are right, said Shorty Duncan, ‘‘It^s 
funny how that letter finally reached Carl.’^ 

The men are divided into groups of eight which 
constitute a squad and each squad takes its turn on 
fatigue, which includes policing the street, kitchen 
police and caring for the bathhouse. Several days 
before casual camp disbanded, Christy’s squad had 
its turn. That night private Jude came to his tent 
a bit put out when he remarked, don’t see why 
they chose me to scrub the bathhouse. It is sure a 
hard, dirty job. I don’t see why they couldn’t have 
elected one of these bums that’s used to that kind of 
life.” 

‘‘My friend, we have no lawyers, no bums in our 
army. We do have officers and privates and, like 
the rest of these men, we are privates, so I imagine 
it behooves us to keep quiet,” said Christy. 

“Yes, Christy, that’s where the rub comes, in the 
scrub. ’ ’ 

Carl, who had been working in the kitchen, added 
a little humor to the stories. “I have only known 
of one kind of panhandling before, but now I have 
been introduced to another kind of panhandling.” 

The pun finally worked its way thru Shorty Dun- 
can’s dome and he came back with one he had heard 
several days before. “Boys, do you know this bunk 
fatigue is all bunk.” 

“Well, boy, I am tired enough to hit the bunk 
early,” said Christy. 


89 


Christy Finds a New Democracy in the Army 

‘‘Kerens two of us,” repeated another, and it 
wasn^t long until the bunch were in snoozers^ land 
happily dreaming of another day. 

The last day in casual camp was an easy one. 
The men only had to prepare to move to their com- 
panies and as they were instructed to send all civilian 
clothes home, they did not have much to bother with. 

The commanding officer of the camp called all 
the men together and gave them his little advice. 
He stood a bully big fellow, head and shoulders over 
all those about him. He wore a big smile, brimming 
over with good nature but none of the men would 
ever do anything to make him mad. Major Boxton 
stood before six thousand husky westerners, telling 
them, ‘‘You are the best lot of men I have ever seen, 
physically. You are the kind of stuff that 
Uncle Sam expects to win the war. By gosh, 1 
know you will, but there are several things 
I want you to remember. Leave the wild women 
alone, keep yourself fit, and write home often. Those 
mothers are the ones who will inspire us to victory. 
Yes, last but not least, remember God. I am a 
rather rough fellow by nature but I always take my 
hat off to God. I have said all I am going to. My 
best wishes are for you. ’ ^ 

‘ ‘ Christy, that was short and to the mark, ^ ^ said 
Phil. 

“Even though the old bird is rough on the out- 
side, he has a heap of good inside, said Shorty. 

“I am for him all the way,^^ chimed in another. 

‘ ‘ Say, fellows, I hope the men get the real value 
of what he said, ’ ’ added Christy. 

“I have just been in the orderly room and found 
out that Christy, Shorty Duncan, Jude and myself 
are assigned to the same company,’^ said Carl 
Stewart. 


90 


Yank — The Crusader 


The last morning in camp the men were called 
out bright and early and though the men hated to 
be separated, orders were orders. The six thousand 
men were to be distributed among a hundred differ- 
ent companies. Just thirty minutes after the pro- 
cession started the whole casual camp was deserted 
and the men on their way to their respective com- 
panies. 

Imagine six thousand soldiers carrying big blue 
bags, some carrying washtubs, scrubbing brushes, 
mirrors and other domestic necessities, with now 
and then a dog following. You will then have a fair 
idea of the parade that took the men to their com- 
panies and a step closer to France. 


CHAPTER X 

CHRISTY STRONG MEETS FRED SHELDON 

There are some things dearer to a man’s soul than 
his own ambitions. To many of us there is at least 
one thing much dearer, friendship. 

When two strong, virile, manly men pal together 
and have genuine reason for admiring and caring for 
each other, there comes a bond of partnership that 
lives in everything they do. Many such friendships 
have been formed by the strong men of our army. 

Yes there is a strength peculiar to the friendships 
made in the army. The men live together; they 
share hardships together; they brave dangers to- 
gether and if spared from the grim grip of death 
those friendships have a sacred meaning and a last- 
ing touch in the memories of the men. 

^ ‘ Shorty, my boy, why are you hiding your head 
in your arms ? Are you sick ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Say Christy, that makes me want to cuss. Hell, 
yes, I am sick. Sick of seeing nothing but men 
dressed in uniforms of khaki. I’d give a year’s pay 
to see a woman once more. I’ll go nuts, plum nuts. 
Just think, they are going to confine us to the com- 
pany street for ten more days,” said Shorty in a 
very disgusted mood. 

‘‘Shorty, you are a specialty in the art of 
peddling gloom. You always hear about the things 
that make a fellow want to cuss,” answered Christy, 
trying hard to look on the bright side of it, but there 
was no bright side to another ten days of quarantine. 

The new men were placed in the last three tents 
in the street and the closest to town. 


92 


Yank — The Crusader 


Fred Sheldon had missed only a few nights 
getting drnnk since his experience with Corporal 
Wiseman. For over a year he regularly passed these 
tents in the wee small hours of the morning. 

Christy, being of a nervous nature could never 
sleep the first night in a new bed so in order to 
quiet his restlessness he jumped out of his bunk and 
strolled up and down his company street in the moon- 
light. It was an early morning hour when he noticed 
a big husky staggering up the street. 

^‘Sh-shay pal-hic-can you-hic t-tell me hic-hic- 
where I am hie,’’ said Fred as he approached 
Christy nearly on all fours. 

‘‘This is the machine gun company,” answered 
Christy. 

“ Goo-goodnight-hic, I-I-I tried-hic to put away- 
hic, too many-hic-hic bo-bo bottles of hie, sky,” said 
Fred. 

“I agree with you pal. No argument on that 
point. I’ll take you to your tent and put you to bed,” 
suggested Christy. 

“Put me-hic-hic to bed hic-hic. Do you think I 
am hic-a baby-hic-hic?” 

Christy could hardly keep from laughing as the 
acting was very comical even though it was really 
a sad condition for him to see a man so drunk that 
it was hard to distinguish whether the victim was 
beast or man. 

“Ha, ha, no pal you are pretty much of a man ac- 
cording to size, but otherwise you are a bit out of 
kelter tonight. What tent do you sleep in?” 

“I reck-reckon you’re about right. Hic-number 
ni-nine,” answered Fred as Christy led him to the 
bathhouse and gave him a cold bath before putting 
him to bed. 

“Hey, Shorty! Wake up! First call has blown,” 
hollered Christy. 


The Meeting of Fred Sheldon and Christy Strong 93 

yawned Shorty, pile out in just an- 
other minute.’’ 

‘‘Oh no, you don’t wait any minute, you are not 
at home now, ’ ’ and with that he pulled the blankets 
off of Shorty. 

“Boy wait until I get out of the army I will sure 
ruin the guy who blows the bugle,” said old Shorty 
as he rubbed his eyes. 

“Snap out of that dope Carl, you have only five 
minutes to dress in, ’ ’ called Shorty who couldn ’t let 
anyone rest as long as he was disturbed. 

“Sure mike, I thought of that last night and 
didn’t take my clothes off,” returned the one time 
hobo who had been used to sleeping that way. 

“Say, Shorty, will you bring me my shoes?” 
asked Jude. 

“Who in hell was your servant before the army 
grabbed you ? ’ ’ returned Shorty. 

“Thanks Shorty, I appreciate your kindness,” 
said Jude sarcastically. 

The whistle blew and the men “fell in,” most 
of them half asleep but only several minutes after 
the call for breakfast came. Like magic the men all 
awakened and tried to be first in line. 

“Hello pal, how do you feel this morning?” said 
Christy to Sergeant Sheldon as they fell in toward 
the end of the line. 

“You’re the bird that put me to bed last night 
are you?” 

“You are right, but I never felt any wings sprout- 
ing as a result,” answered Christy. 

“Ha, ha, ha, well, I reckoned I’d find out. I am 
fairly middling although I have felt better. Say 
pard I want to tell you you’re a man after my own 
heart. I’ll remember you for last night,” said Fred. 

“Your best smile pays the bill,” said Christy. 


94 


Yank — The Crusader 


^‘That^s the easiest bill I ever paid. I don’t 
reckon you’d mind telling me your name?” 

‘‘Private Christy Strong sir, and your name?” 

“Fred Sheldon is mine. Don’t pay any attention 
to the stripes on my arm. Just call me Fred. I 
reckon you’re not insisting on being called Private 
Christy Strong.” 

“Not by a long shot. Christy is enough.” 

That evening Sheldon was headed toward town 
and as he passed Christy’s tent he hailed his new 
friend. “Say Pard, come down town with me. No 
one will ever know the difference and we will put on 
a real celebration. There is more booze where I got 
the other. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Fred I am not using that rotten stuff. You need 
a rest old boy. How about staying home tonight ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Stay in camp when I know where to get 
liquored up. Say what do you think I look like?” 

“Fred, to he truthful ,you look dissipated and 
when you are drunk you look mighty foolish.” 

“You shoot straight pard. I want to ask you a 
question,” said Fred. 

“Peg away,” answered Christy. 

“Don’t you reckon a man can be just as good a 
soldier and drink as when he don’t drink?” 

“I do not,” answered Christy. 

The men talked for several hours and that night 
the old cowboy forgot his first intention to get drunk. 
For the first time in many a moon he stayed home 
and kept sober. He enjoyed his talk with Christy 
and after a hearty laugh they parted with a liking 
for each other. 

The next evening after supper Fred didn’t even 
get down as far as Christy’s tent. It was pay day 
and a big crap game attracted his attention. 

“I’m coming for a dollar,” said the man hand- 
ling the dice. 


The Meeting of Fred Sheldon and Christy Strong 95 

‘‘I’ll fade you,” challenged Fred. 

“Nice dice, pretty dice, come now,” pleaded the 
crapshooter. 

“That’s it pet the dice and they’ll be kind to 
you,” said another. 

“Boy, you can hold those dice longer than any 
runt I’ve ever known,” said another. 

“Come dice, come says 1.” 

“I’ll bet you a plunk he breaks his arm this 
time. ’ ’ 

“I’ll take your bet,” said the crapshooter. 

‘ ‘ Eight is your point and eight she is. You lucky 
dog.” 

“Two bucks I bring home the bacon this time,” 
challenged the shooter. 

“I’ll take you,” accepted Fred. 

“Say, boy, you must be wearin’ a horseshoe. 
Seven and you take the kale. You can’t always 
win,” said Fred. 

The game continued through the night, some men 
going broke and others winning the pot. 

“Damn it, I’m broke and I expected to win 
enough to square up my debts, ’ ’ said one who played 
and lost. 

“Hell, I’ve shot my wad, I guess the kid don’t 
get any shoes this pay day,” said another. 

“ It is the last gambling I ever do, ’ ’ said another 
loser. 

The truth about the average gambling game is 
that the man who loses is the man who can least 
afford to. He is either in debt to someone else, he 
has a dependent or he needs some little necessity. 

Old Bang Sol was just peeping over the horizon 
while the group of fifteen men were still on their 
knees, cussing their luck or bidding well to win the 
pot. First call blew and Fred held the dice. 


96 


Yank — The Crusader 


^ ‘ Fellers this is the last roll and I am betting all 
I have. Let me see, ten, twenty, thirty, forty, forty- 
six dollars. Anyone game to cover it?’’ said Fred. 

^‘I’ll take twenty of it,” said one. 

‘‘All right. I’ll cover the rest,” said another. 

“Four is your point.” 

“Come dice, don’t go back on your daddy now,” 
said the cowboy. 

“Boy, that was a close shave. My heart was in 
my mouth,” said one of the betting men. 

“Come seven you know me ice,“ called the 
man who had a twenty dollar interest in the stakes. 

“Seven she is.” 

The men stood reville and it was easy to pick out 
of the company the men who had been gambling. 

Fred, who had not written home for over a year 
had been borrowing money from everyone in the com- 
pany. He had that down-in-the-mouth feeling. He 
was sore at the world and everything and everybody 
in it, but he felt a desire to talk things over with his 
friend Christy. 

“Say pard, I aint generally tellin’ my troubles 
to everyone, but I don’t mind telling you for some 
reason, Christy, ’ ’ confided Fred. 

“Old boy, I am sure glad you feel that way,” 
comforted Christy. 

“Pard, what do you say we take a walk around 
camp tonight,” suggested Fred. 

“You can bank on me,” said Christy. 

Fred led the way and for some spell not a word 
was spoken, not until Fred broke the silence that 
seemed like a century to Christy. ‘ ‘ Say pard, you ’re 
different from the rest of these birds. I reckon I 
am complimenting myself when I try to take up with 
you; but I never thought you’d mind if I’d ask you to 
give me a boost. No, I don’t mean to borrow money, 
I owe enough of that. ’ ’ 



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The Meeting of Fred Sheldon and Christy Strong 97 

^‘Why, old boy, I count it a privilege to do as 
you say, ’ ^ said Christy. 

‘‘You see it is like this. I ain’t never been 
a saint, but there is a something I am f eelin ’. I just 
feel that I have been adoin’ wrong. When we were 
talking the other night you spoke about a feller by 
the name of Jesus. My mother used to tell me about 
him, but fool-like, I never listened to her very much 
but she told me about a treasure book and I have 
remembered it ever since. Funny, not a day passes 
but what I have thoughts of that feller. I reckon it 
wouldn’t do no hurt to make his acquaintance. You 
know I kinda have a f eelin’ that I’d like to be worthy 
of writin’ my dear old maw and the gal.” 

Just for a few minutes the scene changes to the 
Sheldon ranch and Molly’s home. 

“Jim isn’t there a letter from brother?” inquired 
Mrs. Sheldon of her son who had just returned from 
town. 

“No dear muvver, there ain’t, and if he don’t 
write soon. I’ll beat him up when he comes home,” 
said Jim. 

Mrs. Sheldon smiled half-heartedly at the 
thought of her brave youngster beating up his big 
brother. 

‘ ‘ Mrs. Sheldon, I reckon there is a reason why he 
aint writing you, ’ ’ said Pete in a manner that showed 
his faith in Fred. 

Mrs. Sheldon who had known the world and all 
its ways could not and would not let her mind rest 
by the comforting word of an outsider. She must 
hear from her son before her soul would rest. She 
knew on the other hand the dangers that wait to 
assail an unsuspecting youth from the country. She 
knew that if sin had clutched her son in its death- 
like grip he wouldn’t feel worthy of claiming her 
for a mother. 


98 


Yank — The Crusader 


‘^Say maw, I don^t want you to worry about that 
big brother of mine. He ain’t worth it and maw, it’s 
spoiling your pretty face. I don’t want your hair 
to turn any grayer. I reckon he’ll be able to take 
care of hisself.” 

‘Mimmy boy, I’m sure you’ll always remember 
mother. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Muvver you know I will, ’ ’ and he squeezed his 
mother and drowned her in kisses. 

Jimmy had assumed the responsibilities of the 
farm in a manly fashion. He, like many other 
American youths, had nobly done his bit to win 
the war by relieving older men of their duties, while 
they were off to whip the Hun, and deserves a great 
deal of praise. 

Mrs. Sheldon spent a big part of every night in 
petitioning the Master to guide and direct her son’s 
footsteps in the right direction. This is the reason 
Fred’s thoughts led him to think of ‘‘that feller” 
and also gave him a yearning to make himself worthy 
of writing the “mother and the gal.” 

A few miles from the Sheldon ranch and down a 
road traveled frequently by Fred there was another 
scene; it was in the humble little cottage of Mrs. 
McByde. 

“Mother dear, I am confident we will hear from 
him,” said Mollie. 

‘ ‘ Sure and I hope before ye ’ll finish the knitting, ’ ’ 
added the mother. 

“Mother dear, each stitch I weave brings him 
closer to me, each stitch is a prayer for him and I 
know he remembers me and when he can he will write 
and tell me where to send these tokens of love. ’ ’ 

Molly had such faith in her lover that nothing in 
the world could shake it. Every day she lived for 
him. No one could take his place in her heart. He 


The Meeting of Fred Sheldon and Christy Strong 99 

was her^s and she was his. Yon can imagine her 
surprise when some days later she received a letter. 

# « • 

‘‘Fred, old boy, yon know it is never too late to 
make yonrself worthy of them.’^ 

“Yes, Christy, that^s easy to say, bnt I reckon 
it’s hard to do.” 

“Pal, yon are right again. It is a hard task, bnt 
I fi^re the test of real manhood comes in accomp- 
lishing hard things.” 

‘ ‘ Chris, I reckon yon ’re ahont right at that. ’ ’ 

The boys walked and talked until late into the 
night and as they started toward their bunks 
Christy placed his hand on the big cowboy’s shoul- 
der and said, “Fred, just this word and I know 
you will feel that it is coming from a friend. Old 
boy, if yon depend on yonrself to win this scrap 
that yon and I have planned yon will lose, bnt on the 
other hand, if yon trust in Him who was strong 
enough to create heaven and earth and all that 
therein is, yon will win the fight. ’ ’ 

“Christy, I’ll not make a promise tonight, bnt I 
reckon you’re not a mindin’ if I claim yon for a 
bnddie.” 

“Why Fred, it couldn’t be otherwise.” 

# # • 

Days have passed since that night and the strong, 
manly, virile friendship between Christy and Fred 
waxed more firm. Many times they hiked out into 
the deserts by starlight and shared each others’ 
trouble^ and delights. Only a few times did Fred 
go back to his old life of dissipation. 

One beautiful night when the harvest moon was 
shining in all its majesty, “The Pals” as the- men of 
their company called them, took one of their hikes. 
The harvest was ripe and the reaper was ready. 


100 


Yank — The Crusader 


“Christy, old pal I’m a wantin’ to be a Christian 
and I reckon if yon tell me how I’m a- willin’ to try.” 

“Old boy, I’ll do my best. What do you say we 
make a bargain between each other. Let ns help 
each other to make a success of Christian living. ’ ’ 

“Christy, here is my hand. I am not a countin’ 
on bein’ much good to you as I am the one who 
needs your help. ’ ’ 

“Boy, we need each other,” returned Christy. 

Once in a while Fred stumbled but he always 
found his Big Partner, Jesus Christ, on hand ready 
to give him a boost. 

They started toward camp and Fred could hardly 
wait until they reached the Y. M. C. A., where he 
sat down and wrote this letter. 

Dear Mother: 

I reckon you wonder at the reason I haven’t been 
writin to you. I am ashamed of myself. For a 
long time I had an idea I ought to, but I had been 
drinkin and gamblin and just lived so rotten I 
couldn’t write. 

One night when my old clod hoppers wouldn’t 
track, a pal o mine found me and has cared for me 
ever since. 

From then on my desire to cut out that kind of 
life grew as Christy and I became better friends. 

You remember when you told me about the Bible. 
I got one now and am sending you one so that little 
Jimmy will know how to read from it before he 
leaves home. 

My next letter will be longer but I am anxious 
to know if you think I am good enough to write. 

Your loving son, 

Fred Sheldon. 

Let us follow the letters the big-hearted cowboy 
wrote that night and again we’ll have the pleasure 


The Meeting of Fred Sheldon and Christy Strong 101 

of visiting the Sheldon ranch and Molly’s home. 

^ ‘‘Maw, Oh Maw, you can’t guess what I have,” 
said Jimmy. 

“Now Jim, I don’t want you to tease me with any 
toads or snakes.” 

“Maw it’s something you have wanted for a long 
time,” said the young lad so enthusiastically that it 
was an easy guess for Mrs. Sheldon. 

“Let us read the letter,” said Mother Sheldon, 
as she fairly snatched it from her son. 

‘ ‘ Oh, how I knew it, how I felt it ; but dear Father 
in Heaven, I thank you for answering my prayers, ’ ’ 
said Mrs. Sheldon with tears trickling down her 
cheeks. 

She sat down that night and answered his letter. 
Jimmy also added a few lines. 

# # « # * 

“Mother, mother, it has come, just as I said it 
would,” shouted Molly when she was fifty yards 
from Mrs. McByde. 

“Sure and faith I knew he’d he a writin’ you 
soon,” returned the Irish lady. 

“Mother I knew it. I was sure he would write. 
I can hardly wait to see what he has to say.” 

“And sure it’s a slow way you be afindin’ out,” 
remarked the mother probably more anxious than 
the daughter. 

My Dear Molly Girl: 

Just a little letter tonight because I reckon I am 
a better man than what I have been for the year just 
past. 

You see I kinda went wrong and you know I 
couldn’t write while in that condition. Too much 
booze and gamblin was my trouble. 

I met a feller by the name of Christy and I reckon 
we have been a bummin together over three months. 


102 


Yank — The Crusader 


You can blame him for this letter. He wouldn’t 
rest until I wrote it and I am admitting I sort o 
wanted to write, but I just couldn’t until he kinda 
led me away from the sinning game. 

I am trying hard to be the kinda feller I know 
you fancy me to be and then I reckon I can come 
home and claim the hand that wears the ring. 
(Molly jumped for joy when she read this). 

Of course I’m not a blamin you if you turn me 
down. 

Yours with a heap of love, 

Fred. 

P. S. Love to your mother and a heap for you. 

‘‘Those knitted goods will be finished tomorrow 
and I’ll write him a big letter.” 

“Sure Molly, you do that and I’ll be amakin’ him 
some ates.” 

* • « 

“Good-mawnin’ Christy, it’s sure a big bully 
mawnin.” 

“You’re right, old scout. I needn’t ask you how 
you are Fred. Your big smile tells the story.” 

“I reckon you’re well buddie,” returned Fred. 

Every morning as regular as the darkness faded 
and the light ruled the day ‘ ‘ the pals ’ ’ would inquire 
of each other how they felt. They really cared. 
Many an extra step they took just to see one another. 
Every hour they weren’t drilling they were together. 
They shared everything alike. 

“Say Christy, old Fred is in fine spirits. He is 
a different fellow than he used to be. No more cus- 
sing and he looks so fit,” remarked a man in 
Christy’s platoon. 

“He has a good reason to be happy,” returned 
Christy. 

“I wonder who the girl is,” replied the other. 


The Meeting of Fred Sheldon and Christy Strong 103 

^‘You are fishing but they don^t bite in this lake. 
Try Sheldon, he might tell you,’^ smiled Christy. 

Good letters of enouragement and cheer made the 
boys happy. Too much cannot be said for the in- 
spiring influence of a good girl or mother over the 
men in camp. 

Several days later Fred Sheldon ^s name was 
called at mail call for the first time in many a day. 
Christy heard the call and carried the big package 
and two letters to the cowboy. He fairly flew into 
Fred’s tent with the messages. 

“Here old boy, the answers to your letters. 
Gee! that’s great,” said Christy somewhat elated to 
think his prophecy had come true. 

Fred nervously tore open the letter his mother 
sent him and read it as he placed his arm on old 
Christy’s shoulder. 

“I am sure proud of maw,” said Fred as he 
opened the other letter and handed it to Christy, 
saying, “I am askin’ a favor of you. Will you read 
it to me.” 

“Yes, Fred, I am for anything you say,” and as 
Fred sat with his big fists clenched ready to fight 
any unfavorable report, his friend read: 

My Dear Fred: 

My heart was cheered as I read your letter. It 
seemed an awful long time since I heard from you 
and I know I’ll not have to wait as long again. 
(“You bet she wont,” resolved Fred.) 

Dear Fred, it made me sorry to know that you 
were sinning, but my joy has made up for that sor- 
row many times since I know that you are doing the 
right thing now. 

I am still waiting for my mate to come home and 
claim the girl that wears the ring. 

Your own Molly. 


104 


Yank — The Crusader 


P. S. Mother sends her love and I am adding 
some kisses. Hope you enjoy the package mother 
and I sent you. 

^‘Gee, I’m so happy I’m afraid of myself. 
Guess we’ll be openin’ the package and seein’ the 
likeness of the inside, ’ ’ said Fred embracing his pal, 
Christy. 

‘‘Look at the eats,” said Christy. 

“Well let’s call in our friends and feast.” 

“All right, Fred.” 

Friends, and a few of the uninvited, ate to their 
hearts’ content. 

“Boy, that cake is magscrumptious, ” said 
Shorty Duncan in complimenting terms. 

“That chicken is the best I’ve eaten for many a 
day.” 

“Yea bo and I’m not a kiddin’ you when I tell 
you that the candy is high class, ’ ’ put in Hobo Carl. 

The men didn’t eat supper with the rest of the 
company that night as their appetite had been sat- 
isfied. Surprises of this type made the boys radi- 
antly happy. 

Friendship, like the oak tree, must start from the 
acorn. If the acorn is nourished properly it 
grows into a small sprig and with more nourish- 
ment it grows and grows until it becomes a stal- 
wart oak. 

The same truth holds in regard to a man’s rela- 
tionship with his Creator. At first it is an acorn 
and with proper nourishment it grows to a stalwart 
oak. 

The nutrition for the soul as Fred found it to be 
was simply Bible study, prayer and testifying for 
the Master. 


CHAPTER XI 

A CAMPFIRE WITH YANK 

Among the happy hours of a soldier life are 
the ones that Uncle Sam gives him on a pass. He 
gets away from drills, details and the rest of the 
army routine. He feels more like his own sponsor 
and consequently returns to his training with a new 
vim and vigor. 

‘‘Say Fred, this certainly is a great night. I 
would sure like to he sitting around a campfire and 
listen to a bunch of men singing, watching images 
dancing and acting in the blaze and vanish in the 
smoke. ’ ^ 

“Christy, old boy, I don^t see why you couldn’t 
do just that thing. I reckon a lot of men will go 
any time you start them to thinking that way.” 

“Old hoy, you have me almost in the notion of 
working up a trip to the mountains. Will you help 
me get the men interested?” 

“You bet, Christy you can count on me,” 
answered Fred. 

The boys were soon on their way home. They 
hunted up an almanac and found that three weeks 
from the coming Saturday and Sunday the full moon 
would smile upon the night. 

The job that they were undertaking was a large 
one, especially when added to military obligations; 
but Fred said to Christy when it was all over, “Pard, 
I am straight on one proposition and that is, a man 
gets out of a thing just what he puts into it. That’s 
why we are so happy.” 


106 


Yank — The Crusader 


That night, the night that “the pals^’ decided on 
the hike, neither of them slept a great deal. They 
were thinking how they conld make the trip more 
attractive. 

“Good morning Fred, how are yon?^^ 

“I am feeling fair enough, but I couldn^t get 
that trip out of my head last night,’’ replied the 
cowboy. 

“Minds of great men run in the same channel,” 
joked Christy. 

“Yea bo. I’ll say so.” 

“Fred, there are a number of things to take into 
consideration on a trip like we are anticipating. 
Namely, four meals, the men must obtain permission 
of their commanding officer to use their blankets, 
entertainment must be provided and finally we will 
have to figure out how much to charge the men.” 

“Many the meals have I cooked on the round-up 
so you’ll leave that part to me. By heck! there 
goes that old drill call. We will talk it over later. 

“Company, fall in!” commanded the first ser- 
geant. 

“Eeport!” 

“First squad all present.” 

“Second squad all present or accounted for,” and 
thus replied all the corporals in charge of squads. 

The first sergeant saluted the captain and re- 
ported the whole company present or accounted for. 

“Take your post!” commanded the captain. 

“Squads right, march!” The men were off for 
their day’s drilling. 

The company marched a little distance from camp 
when they were allowed to march “route step.” A 
minute later someone would start singing “There’s a 
Long, Long Trail A Winding,” then at the front of 
the column of march a bunch would pipe up and sing 
“Goodbye Broadway, Hello France,” while at the 


107 


A Campfire With Yank 

rear another crowd would tune up on ^‘Keep The 
Homefires Burning/’ so the men in the middle of the 
line hardly knew what they were singing. 

The men came to a village and were ordered to 
march at ‘^Attention.” Each squad is a family of 
eight men. The men enjoy each others pranks and 
share each others burdens. The corporal of 
Christy’s squad was a regular clown. There was a 
pretty little maiden standing in the door of her 
home as the company passed. The corporal 
stumbled clumsily and thus attracted the young 
lady’s attention. He flirted with her while 
his squad enjoyed the display of nonsense. (There 
is a cute and true little saying concerning the army, 
‘‘It isn’t what you do, it’s what you get away with 
that counts.” The soldiers enjoyed slipping little 
stunts like this over on their officers.) 

A little beyond the village the men were allowed 
to rest, and all, except one officer, found places at the 
right of the road. 

“Twenty minutes rest and smoke,” said the cap- 
tain. 

“Shorty, how would you like to take a hike up 
Mount Cook and camp out over night,” questioned 
Fred. 

‘ ‘ Just the card. Count me in on it, ’ ’ said Shorty. 

“Yes, and Fred, here is another.” 

The men marched to the drill grounds and after a 
short rest they drilled until the sweat formed little 
rivulets down their faces. They then returned to the 
barracks for dinner and swapped their opinions of 
the hike and things in general. 

The afternoon was spent in study and practice on 
their different field pieces and also cleaning clothes 
and other necessary undertakings. 

“It was a strenuous day,” said one. 

“The hardest we have had,” answered Fred. 


108 


Yank — The Crusader 


‘^Say old boy it will cost in the neighborhood of 
three dollars a man for the trip and do it right. ^ ^ 
‘‘That^s all right. Pay day is between now and 
then and I reckon these birds might better spend it 
camping, than lose it shooting dice. 

‘‘You are right, Fred, but the idea is, can we 
make them believe it. ’ ’ 

“Christy I have already talked to a bunch about 
the trip, and they are all for it. ’ ^ 

“All right I will set about arranging details, 
while you b^oost it with the men.^^ 

“The pals’’ held a conference just before taps 
that night, and Fred told of his success. ‘ ‘ Christy, 
seventy-two men have already said they’d go. I 
reckon we can count on a share of them. ’ ’ 

“That is great! I have also been lucky. Cap- 
tain James of the Canadian army promised me that 
he would gladly accept my invitation to take the hike 
and tell us of his experiences. The auto company 
will take care of our need for autos. Counting 
everything, if we charge three dollars I can give you 
ninety-six cents to feed each man.” 

The big cowboy smiled and exclaimed, “The 
show is on and I am promising the boys the feed 
of fheir life.” 

Every day someone would add his three dollars 
to the fund of the hike and by Saturday of the trip 
Fred had collected one hundred and twenty-three 
dollars, or in other words, forty-one men beside 
Christy, the captain and himself were going. 

The day of the hike, Fred and Shorty went ahead 
to make camp and prepare supper, while Christy 
and Carl started the men on their way. 

“Gee, Christy, I’m glad I worked the captain for 
a pass, ’ ’ said one, jubilantly. 

“I have been looking forward to this trip for a 
long time,” added another Yank. 


109 


A Campfire With Yank 

The last of the men met Christy and together 
they rode in the auto to the trail that led to the 
campsite. They hiked for about two hours through 
the pines before they came to the camp. 

^ ‘ Here comes Christy, ’ ’ said Shorty to Fred. 

‘‘Believe me he has worked hard to make this 
affair a suceess,’’ praised the cowboy. 

“By gum! He is always working hard to make 
others happy, added the other. 

“Hello Fred. How is everything setting 

“Reckon everything is lovely Christy. I am 
ready to serve supper anytime. ’ ’ 

“I knew everything would be all right in your 
hands,’’ complimented Christy as he added to Carl, 
“Call the men for supper.” 

“You birds better cut yourselves some branches 
to fry hot dogs on.” 

“Say the old cowboy has done himself proud. 
The best meal I have eaten in many a day.” 

Another said, “It is a real treat.” 

“That cocoa is great,” another said. 

The men ate heartily, but the cowboy had more 
than they could get away with. One by one the men 
gathered around the campfire. The men watched 
the full moon peeping over the straight pines that 
stood sentinel like keeping the troubles and hub-bub 
of a restless world away from Yank at the camp- 
fire. 

“Well, Glut, have you finally quit eating?” called 
one of the man as he came to take his place at the 
campfire. 

“Everybody happy?” asked Christy. 

“We say so,” yelled the bunch. 

Then they started to sing, “Hail, Hail, the Gang’s 
All Here,” “It’s a Long Way to Berlin,” some old 
love songs, some old folk songs and a few hymns. 
When Christy thought they had sung enough he in- 


no 


Yank — The Crusader 


troduced Captain James, who by this time really 
didn^t need any introduction as he had already made 
friends with the bunch. He was welcomed by three 
lusty cheers. 

Said he, ^‘Well, fellows, I hardly know what to 
say. I am sure you will be easy on me and save your 
vegetables for the next speaker. I have been gassed 
by Jerry and am not able to withstand a barrage of 
tomatoes. 

‘‘Tonight I am reminded of the many times I 
have sat around with a crowd of men, but not under 
such ideal conditions. I’d like to be back with the 
boys and I am going to tell you why. 

“I am lonesome and old Jerry is the cause for 
my lonesomeness. As I sit here and watch you 
men pal up and think of what happened to my mate 
over there, it makes my blood boil. 

“In civilian life, he was careless and carefree. 
No one had much use for him then, — even I disdained 
his thoughtlessness ; but I knew that there was some- 
thing good in him and now I can boast of being right. 

‘ ‘ Canada called upon her sons to help fight for her 
empire. He said to me, ‘James, it isn’t any use to 
be a-talking. I must enlist. Others can talk, but I 
am going to the front. ’ 

“ ‘That is the best thing I have ever heard you 
say. You and I will go together,’ said I. 

“His folks were wealthy and gave him the best 
that money and wealth could offer. Life in the uni- 
versity appealed to the lad, not for the learning to 
be obtained there, but only for the fun he got out of 
athletics. 

“Yes, his mother and dad called him a fool when 
he enlisted because his future at home offered him 
nothing but a wealth of happiness. The parents 
feared that his earlier training was such that he 
wouldn’t be able to stand the gaff. They told him 


A Campfire With Yank 111 

all of this and it hurt him away down deep to be 
called a fool. 

‘‘Well, we enlisted, and were assigned to a camp, 
only to receive six weeks training before we em- 
barked as the first contingent of Canadian troops. 
The thing I remembered him repeating so often, 
‘They called me a fool. Maybe I was. It was hard 
to leave my sport corner but I am not complaining. 
Someone had to go.’ 

“Men, I have traveled through many camps and 
cantonments, both in this country and over there. I 
find it a natural thing for each to brag their ’s is the 
roughest and toughest in the whole army. I feel that 
way about the first troops that left Canada. 

“From every alley, from every boulevard of life, 
came the men who joined us; ministers, actors, bak- 
ers, chimneysweeps, lawyers, and jailbirds, and men 
who had likle or nothing to do. Many who were 
tired of the game of life and sought adventure, 
answered the call. 

“Well, we arrived in France and I am admitting 
we were far from scientific soldiers, but thank God 
that he made us fighters! Oh, yes, I boast that the 
Canadians are fighters! They have been tried and 
found true! 

“We were sent to the front in a hurry, after our 
trip across the Atlantic. Bill and I were both 
commissioned with a ‘lef tenant ’s’ rank. Our rapid 
advance through the ranks, raised our ambitions to 
become captains even though this would separate us. 

“You men will probably remember the first gas 
attack that Jerry sent over. Bill and I with a de- 
tachment of men were sent over the top into no- 
man ’s-land. Things were happening fast and furi- 
ous. We escaped the first cloud of gas because we 
were just outside of it. We couldn’t understand how 
so many of our comrades were being killed. We 


112 


Yank — The Crusader 


were getting close to Jerry and no assistance was in 
sight. The foe ontnnmbered ns to a pitiful degree. 
The dirty skunks showed us no quarter, and God! I 
stood petrified as I saw them butcher my pal, Bill. 
It drove me mad 1 I started to run. I don T remem- 
ber whether I ran forward or backward, but that 
made no ditference as I stumbled into a shell crater 
where a cloud of gas found lodgement and there I 
lay unconscious for four days, when some brave 
stretcher bearer found me and brought me in. Jerry 
killed about seventeen thousand of our men in that 
attack. 

‘‘Six weeks later I recuperated enough to notice 
that my old blouse had been replaced by a new one 
and instead of a ‘ leftenant ’s ^ ornaments I saw the 
decorations of a captain on my shoulder. 

“I didnT do much thinking then, but now I canT 
see why Bill couldnT win his spurs. Why couldnT 
I go back and avenge for BilBs killing? Yes, and 
God knows it would take more Huns than the Kaiser 
has to even up for Bill. 

“The day that I visited his little mother I knew 
why I wasnT sent back into the battle again. She 
was brave. She said (now and then a tear trickling 
down her cheeks), ‘I called my Billie boy a fool. 
How I have brooded over that. He was wise and 
noble. Yes and captain I have prayed that he would 
be brave.’ 

I told her that he was and handed her a little note 
which read: 

Mother Dear: 

When I left home I was an aristocrat. I despised 
the Germans because they were Germans. Since 
then I have lived in a new world, a world where men 
are men, a world where God is man’s only resort. 


113 


A Campfire With Yank 

Now, mother, I believe in God. I met him on the 
battlefield, when everyone else had gone from me. I 
believe in my fellow men. They tanght me that by 
their nobleness, the poor and the rich alike. 

Some are rough and so was I. It^s just that kind 
of a life, but surely God will overlook the rough and 
see the good. 

Your loving son. 

Bill. 

P. S. Mother dear, my pal has promised to de- 
liver this message if he returns. I hope you will 
read it to him. 

‘‘Men, I copied that letter, it has made many a 
mother’s son think. 

‘ ‘ ‘ Captain J ames, ’ said she as her face lighted up 
like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day when the sun 
breaks through, ‘Captain, I laugh now when we 
speak of sacrificing. When we die the way Bill died 
we gain more than we lose.’ 

“Men, right then and there I knew why I was 
spared any more trench life, why I wasn’t sent in to 
avenge the life of Bill. Vengeance is mine, saith the 
Lord. He had planned a bigger work for me. He 
has sent me through your country telling the story 
of my mate. It has been the cause of many a man’s 
shaking hands with his God. 

“My life in the past hadn’t been the most saintly. 
I cussed and told dirty stories with the rest of them, 
but the closer to the trenches I marched the more I 
felt the need of strength from our Saviour. 

“The night before the battle my company and I 
slept, or better, tried to sleep in a dirty cellar of an 
old French cafe. No one was allowed to light a 
cigarette, no one had time to do that. Men, who 
never made a prayer before, tried it that night as 
the guns were vomiting forth their fire of hell. I 
came to my knees, as I heard those shells bursting 


114 


Yank — The Crusader 


all around us. That was the first prayer in many a 
day, but thank God I have been praying ever since. 
I can still hear the roar of those thundering cannons, 
those mutilators of God’s own kind. 

‘^Boys, I know that every soldier thinks of his 
God more than most people imagine. I am asking you 
to mold and shape your lives so the people can know 
the way you are thinking. 

am only asking you to make a decision in your 
own heart, and let the men around you know it by 
the kind of life you are living every day.” 

The captain sat down quietly and not a man 
stirred. Not a smile was seen and not a whisper was 
heard. Christy could hardly move, but after sev- 
eral attempts he stood and found himself groping for 
words to express the appreciation of the men for 
what they had just heard. 

‘^Say fellows, that was a great talk.” Christy 
then turned to the captain and said, ‘‘Captain James, 
I wish to assure you that we are all indebted to you 
for the message you have brought. ’ ’ 

Shorty broke in, “Youse guys know I’m not the 
prayin ’ kind, but I want to hear the captain make a 
prayer.” 

“Captain, before we go to our rest will you dis- 
miss us in the way suggested by my pal?” 

“All right men, let us sing ‘Onward Christian 
Soldiers,’ ” suggested the captain and then as the 
men bared their heads he offered this prayer: 

“Almighty Father, we thank thee that we may 
fight for a righteous cause. 

“We pray that thou wilt give us courage to do 
our best in this war so as to glorify Thy name. Give 
us stren2:th to overcome the trials and temptations 
which befall us. 

“We ask Thee to forgive those who have hatred 
toward us, and to keep us from hating. If it be thy 


115 


A Campfire With Yank 

will, use us to help friend or foe into the Kingdom, 
not by word alone, but by the example of our own 
lives. 

^‘We pray for a victory which will bless all the 
people of the world, and a victory in our own lives for 
all things that are right. 

‘‘Comfort the dear ones at home, that they may 
know the purity of our thoughts, purposes and lives, 
Amen. ’ ' 

The men left the campfire and went to their 
blankets sheltered only by the clear blue sky. It was 
a wonderful moonlit trail that led them on their way 
to dreamland. 

One of the boys remained after all the rest had 
left. The captain was warming his hands when 
Yank walked up to him and said ,“Your talk has 
done me some real, genuine good. My mate couldnT 
be on the trip so captain I would like to have you 
share the blankets with me. ’ ’ 

“That’s great,” answered the captain in a way 
that made Yank feel more at home and that evening 
a young man wrote a letter to his mother for the 
first time in three years. 

The moon was playing hide-and-go-seek behind 
the hills. It was peeping at the men just as the 
peaceful hillsides were being transformed. One by 
one numerous lights began to appear, until finally 
some twenty or thirty campfires had burst on the twi- 
light and a city seemed to have sprung up as if by 
magic with huge electric lights brightening the hill- 
side. 

Each of these campfires was warming the friend- 
ship of a couple of pals. They were talking over the 
possibilities of the trip, the scenery, and about Cap- 
tain James. Many heart stories were told of the 
homefolk or that someone that every red-blooded 
American cares for, his sweetheart. 


116 


Yank — The Crusader 


^^The pals’’ found their place. Christy couldn’t 
refrain from shaking the cowboy ’s hands and saying, 
“Fred, you picked out a dandy place for us. When 
did you find time to gather enough pine boughs to 
make a bed so comfortable ? ’ ’ 

“I picked out the spot, and while I was making 
supper the men made our bed. They all have the 
same thing.” 

‘ ‘ Fred, I think we should see where the men are. 
I have my first aid equipment. We should be able 
to locate them in case of necessity.” 

“Just as you say, pard.” 

“Fred, that was great to hear old Shorty tell Jude 
about his sweetheart.” 

“Yea bo, and from the looks of the lawyer I allow 
he enjoyed being a listener,” answered the good- 
natured cowboy. 

‘ ^ The pals ’ ’ spent more than an hour around the 
different campfires listening to many love stories, and 
seeing the pictures of as many sweethearts and 
mothers, and finally were ready to call it a day and 
take advantage of a few hours of rest and privacy. 

TLey had to rebuild their fire. They were like 
a pair of youngsters and childlike Christy said, 
“Cowboy, I am not a bit tired. I am so happy that 
everything has been so successful.” 

“Yes, Christy, and what is more the men have 
received more than pleasure from this trip. They 
have been touched down deep, where there is a heap 
of good in them. ” 

“Fred, I was impressed with the love stories and 
stories of home that we listened to at each campfire. 
It was funny that everyone wanted to show us the 
picture of his sweetheart and mother.” 

“Reckon, kid, you would have lost many friends 
tonight if it wasn’t for the fact that you are a good 


117 


A Campfire With Yank 

detective and was able to find something beautiful in 
each of those pictures.’’ 

‘‘Ha, ha, you accuse me of being a diplomat. I 
suppose you would have told them how truly far 
from beautiful some of their choices were. Anyway 
I noticed you never contradicted my judgment.” 

“Christy, I reckon the captain’s talk couldn’t 
have pleased you any better. ’ ’ 

“I can honestly say that the captain’s talk was 
tip top. I am more than pleased. I can’t keep my 
mind off of home since he spoke. It is settled in my 
mind since visiting all the campfires, that the mother 
and sweetheart will inspire each of us to fight like 
superhumans because of our desire to return to them. 
We will make quick work of it.” 

“Them’s my sentiments, Christy, old pard. I’m 
guessin’ you better pile in. I allow if it wasn’t for 
that yawn, you’d still claim that you aren’t tired.” 

The next morning Christy and Fred were first out 
of bed, and when breakfast was ready the men were 
called and also instructed to put out all fires. 

Christy led the hike while Fred went to the place 
designated for supper. 

The sun was sinking in the golden west. It was 
twilight when the men again found the cowboy with 
his tempting supper. They ate like a pack of hungry 
wolves and, the hike over, the only regret that the 
men offered was that the time was too short. 

Every Yank, or at least the majority of Uncle 
Sam’s men, enjoyed some new experiences in the 
army which enriched his life by giving him a greater 
respect for his Creator, a strong faith and a deeper 
appreciation of his fellow men. 

Like boys in their teens the Yanks felt the lack 
of responsibility and hence the desire for amusement 
and play with a tint of adventure. Their training 
and play bring them together. The hardships and 


118 


Yank — The Crusader 


pleasures they share have formed many remarkable 
friendships. These friendships tend to make the 
men better American citizens. They become inter- 
ested in the undertakings of their friends and under- 
stand better the problems they misunderstood before. 
They are for anything that will make their United 
States a better country. 


CHAPTEE Xn 

RUSH TO AND AT POINT OF EMBARKATION 

‘‘Good mawnin’ Chris. I allow you have heard 
the latest.’’ 

“I don’t know if the last one I heard is the latest 
or not, Fred.” 

^ ‘ ‘ Our division moves to the point of embarkation 
this week.” 

“Yes, sometime that is really coming and so is 
the end of the world. I will believe it when I am 
seated in a train and going in that direction. ’ ’ 

“Say Christy, a lot has been going on since we 
started on our hike. Gee, we will be on our way, 
muy pronto,” said Shorty in a high pitched, excited 
voice. 

“I am sure glad we took that trip when we did. 
I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.” 

A group of the fellows had congregated by this 
time to discuss the possibilities and probabilities of 
the new rumor. 

“I have been waiting fifteen months for it,” said 
one. 

“I have not been waiting that long but I have 
sure been aching to get a crack at the kaiser,” said 
another. 

“If this is only a rumor I’ll stow away in the 
next army transport otf for France. I am bound to 
get into the game,” boasted another. 

Breakfast over, Fred could hardly wait until he 
told Christy. “It’s so I’m telling you, pard. The 
top soak elected me to detail a couple of dozen men 
to help pack the material belonging to the company.” 


120 


Yank — The Crusader 


‘‘Fred, that sounds good to me/’ 

“Yes, Christy, we have overseas inspection this 
afternoon. ’ ’ 

“The sooner the better,” said Christy. 

After inspections too numerous to mention, the 
men rolled their packs for the last time and policed 
up everything in the company street. That night 
nothing was left for the men to sleep on. Some slept 
on top of their tents, others took refuge in a straw- 
pile, still others dug holes in old mother earth for 
their hips, while the rest tried many styles of beds. 

The morning was still cloaked in darkness when 
the men piled out. They ate several sandwiches and 
then marched to the train. 

“Boy, it’s great to be on the train. I confess 
that I believed we were going this time, but I had 
guessed wrong before. You fellows don’t look sad,” 
said Christy. 

“Sad, I guess not. Goodbye Camp C^ . I 

hope never to see you again,” said another. 

“Am I dreaming? What’s the matter? I haven’t 
boozed up for a long time. Are we really getting 
started?” inquired the big cowboy in a rather be- 
wildered manner. 

“Say Fred, what makes that overcoat move?” 
asked Shorty. 

“Cut it out. Shorty, don’t let anyone know that 
you are drunk,” was the comment of Sheldon. 

“No, I am not kidding,” said Shorty. 

“Goodnight, it is moving. Now I know someone 
has doped me. I must be having a nightmare,” said 
Fred. 

“Ha, ha, old Carl has smuggled old Bob, the mas- 
cot, in the overcoat. Carl is all right,” said Claris. 

The men had been on the way nearly a whole 
day, when Fred jumped clear out of his seat and 


Rush to and at Point of Embarkation 121 

shouted, ‘ ‘ Hurrah ! Gosh, we are going past my home 
town!^’ 

All the men rejoiced with the big cowpuncher and 
at the advice of Christy, the wires were kept busy 
making it possible to notify Mrs. Sheldon and Molly 
of the fact. It was a difficult proposition to make 
connections, but when there is a will there is a way. 
The old Sheldon determination came out in this af- 
fair. Fred telegraphed at each stop. Only ten 
hours, and he would be in Fargo. Every minute 
counted. 

The telegraph operator was alone and could not 
leave his post. This was the first obstacle that arose. 
It seemed a century to him before anyone showed up 
and then only a weary Willie happened near the 
depot. ‘‘Say bo. I’ll make it worth your while if 
you will go over to that house and get the White 
brothers to come over here immediately with their 
ponies. It is important.” 

“I ain’t carin’ much if I do,” replied the tramp 
reluctantly. 

‘ ‘ Get a move on. It means a heap to a soldier, ’ ’ 
pleaded the operator. 

“Damned if I don’t guess I better do it then,” 
volunteered Mr. Hobo. 

The tramp had quite a time locating the White 
brothers, as they were out in their cornfield doing 
some weeding. 

“The telegram man wants you to saddle your 
bosses and hurry down right away.” 

“I’ll swan. I’ll be gol darned if I didn’t think 
something like that would turn up after I turned 
the horses to pasture,” said Alfy White. 

“You’ll be adoin’ me a favor, by heck, if ye’ll 
be atellin ’ the man at the station I ’ll be thar as soon 
as I kin get Cy and the horses,” added Alfy. 

“I’ll do it for a handout,” said the tramp. 


122 


Yank — The Crusader 


‘‘If it weren’t fer a contract with that thar man 
I’d shoot ye, but I’ll be durned if I give ye a hand- 
out. I’ll make him pay fer it,” resolved the farmer. 

“You brothers never were so slow, which of those 
bosses is best for speed ? ’ ’ asked the operator. 

“By heck, I guess the old grey be a bit the bet- 
ter,” answered Cy White. 

“All right, take this message to the Sheldon 
ranch and give it to Mrs. Sheldon.” 

“By heck, you must be a givin’ me the direction. 
Be gosh, as long as I’ve been in these here parts I 
never heerd the like o’ that place.” 

“All right Cy. Make your best time.” 

Five and a half hours slipped away before Cy 
reached the ranch. When he did get there old Pete 
was the only one at home. 

“Be this the Sheldon ranch?” inquired the mes- 
senger. 

‘ ‘ I reckon so, ’ ’ answered Pete. 

“By gum, I be a carryin’ a message for her, Mrs. 
Sheldon, an’ it be important,” said Cy as he curled 
his tobacco stained whiskers. 

“She be out avisitin’ some friends and I am not 
able to be givin’ ye pertic’lars,” old Pete yawned 
more or less thoughtlessly. 

“Be gosh, I don’t know what to be adoin’ about 
the consarned affair,” worried Cy. 

“ Yist be aleavin’ the message an’ I reckon it’ll be 
safe in her hands when she returns,” suggested Pete. 

“Darned if I don’t think it be a wise idea,” said 
Cy as he slapped his hand on his knee and then 
kicked the ground with his number twelves. 

While C^y was delivering the telegram to the 
Sheldon ranch, his brother Alfy was on his way to 
the McByde ranch and soon after leaving the station 
he was in front of Molly’s home handing her the mes- 
sage. 


123 


Rush to and at Point of Embarkation 

^‘Say, Miss, I reckon I be givin^ this to the right 
party/’ said Alfy. 

‘‘Eight yon are,” Molly said as she opened the 
envelope. 

“Mother, mother, yon can’t gness why I am so 
happy. Let ns dress np qnick. I can’t wait. Hnrry 
mother and get ready.” 

“And snre Molly, what may all this fnss be 
abont?” qnestioned Mrs. McByde. 

“Mother, I knew yon conldn’t gness, bnt Fred is 
going throngh Fargo,” answered Molly. 

“Snre, an faith I’ll be plased to see ’im. Molly 
me girl, ye better infarm Mrs. Sheldon. They must 
know it. They left here only an honr ago,” said 
Mrs. McByde. 

“Mother, I’ll ride my pony and catch np with the 
Sheldons while yon are getting ready. ’ ’ 

“Yon are a good schemer, me girl,” said the 
prond mother. 

Mollie rode and rode, and jnst as she made the last 
tnrn she spied Jimmy trying to repair an accident 
that had jnst happened. As the excited yonng lady 
rode np she fonnd the lad with his sleeves rolled 
np and going at it. 

“Oh! Mrs. Sheldon, I have snch good news for 
yon. Fred will be in Fargo jnst fonr honrs from 
now,” said Molly. 

“Let ns all pitch in and help Jim fix this rig. I 
can hardly believe my own ears. Is the war over ? ’ ’ 
qnestioned Mrs. Sheldon. 

“Mrs. Sheldon I don’t know anything abont it, 
bnt I do know he will be in Fargo for ten minntes, ’ ’ 
answered Molly. 

“Oh, I do hope that we see him. Let ns hnrry,” 
added Mrs. Sheldon. 


124 


Yank — The Crusader 


The folks soon picked np Mrs. McByde and then 
proceeded on their way to Fargo. 

# # # 

^‘Fred, why all the primping asked shorty. 

^^Pal, I reckon yon will be seein^ soon.^’ 

Old Fred was like a wild bronco. First he would 
rough the daylights out of Christy, then he would 
go to the washroom and clean up and on returning 
to his seat he would mess up on someone else, then fix 
up again. He was wild with joy. 

Christy knew the name of the town and hence 
put the fellows up to calling out Fargo. The first 
time it excited Fred, but the men took up with the 
idea and every little rock, weed or telephone post 
was Fargo to them. 

* * # 

‘^Muvver I see the smoke of the engine,’^ said 
Jimmy in a joyous mood. 

‘‘And sure the lad is bright, complimented the 
good Irish woman. 

‘ ‘ Oh, I am so glad, ^ ’ exclaimed Molly. 

“And sure me girl, who isn’t? added Mrs. Mc- 
Byde. 

Tears of joy played a happy tune down the cheeks 
of Mrs. Sheldon. 

The train pulled into the station and Fred made 
one big leap off the train. A happy reunion followed. 

“Fred you are looking well.” 

“And Molly dear, I say as much and more for 
you, ’ ’ returned Fred. 

“Sure an’ faith the army don’t seem to be hurtin’ 
ye, ’ ’ said Mrs. McByde refusing to be overlooked. 

“That’s true and I allow that I have never felt 
better in my whole life.” 

‘ ‘ Brudder, do you want to see me salute ? ’ ’ ques- 
tioned Jimmy. 


12S 


Rush to and at Point of Embarkation 

bet kid, snap me one. That^s great. Are 
yon a good boy? Can you outride me yet? How’s 
thijigs at the ranch,” and grabbing Scotch in his 
arms he said, ^‘Has he taken good care of you old 
fellow?” 

'‘Mother, isn’t it great! We are on our way 
over. I sure want you to meet my pal, Christy.” 

Mrs. Sheldon more than shook the hand of her 
son’s friend. She kissed him to show her gratitude 
for the part Christy played in Fred’s life. Christy 
then stepped aside and let the folks enjoy a fond 
farewell. 

Jimmy like many a young boy took .a shine to 
Christy, and while the family reunion was in pro- 
gress they talked things over. 

‘ ‘ My maw worries over Fred when he don ’t write 
and I am trustin’ you to make my big brudder mind 
this,” said Jim. 

“I’ll do that Jimmy. Have you any more in- 
structions for me?” asked Christy. 

“Hey Fred, break away. The train is starting,” 
yelled one of the men. 

“Fred you lucky dog,” said Shorty, but Fred 
was too busy waving from the train steps and paid 
little or no attention to what anyone said. 

‘ ‘ Christy, I didn ’t think you ’d let Fred beat your 
time,” suggested one. 

“Ha, ha, that was good how Christy tried to make 
up with the kid. I wonder if he thought that he 
would undermine Fred by getting in with her little 
brother,” taunted another. 

“You have the family somewhat mixed,” said 
Christy blushing a bit when Fred turned around and 
came to Christy’s rescue by saying, “Boys that girl 
is mine. Let me tell you if she didn ’t think so much 
of me, I’d be for givin’ Christy a good recommenda- 
tion.” 


126 


Yank — The Crusader 


‘‘You’ll take that and be good,” said one of 
Christy’s standbys to his teasing friends. 

It was about supper time when the train pulled 
into the next division point. The men were privi- 
leged to stand around the depot. 

An old civil war veteran was the center of at- 
traction at this burg. The men all gathered around 
him as he reeled off war yams by the mile. If brav- 
ery were a bud, he would be a full grown flower. At 
least he was mighty flowery and the boys enjoyed 
his line of talk. 

Said he, “I can remember the first battle we were 
in. We didn’t have the kind of guns you have now. 
Everytime we fired a shot we had to use the ram- 
rods. Well, I’ll tell you we were all so excited like, 
that at the end of the first five minutes we had shot 
away all our ramrods. (Much laughter followed.) 

“You remember how at the early part of the 
war the rebels had us on the run. Well, 
my men and I had been fighting hard that day. 1 
was a corporal and had only seven men. We were 
sent to an outpost and had been isolated from the 
rest of our company. Well, I can remember that 
afternoon just as plain as if it were yesterday. It 
was dark and gloomy and rain, how it did rain. The 
wind favored us as it blew the rain in the faces of 
our enemies. 

“You see I talk the southern lingo and when I 
saw a dead confererate soldier I changed clothes 
with him and had little trouble entering their lines. 
I soon found the commander’s tent and as my 
face was mud covered went in unsuspicioned. 
I learned that General Lee and his staff were only 
three-quarters of a mile away. 

“I hurried over to the place and as the imiform 
I was wearing signified the rank of captain, I had 
very little trouble in meeting the general. 


127 


Rush to and at Point of Embarkation 

‘‘Evidently the captain whose uniform I was 
wearing was in line for promotion, and, having found 
his name in the diary he was carrying, I was ready 
for them. 

“General Lee said: ‘Captain Andrews, I was on 
my way to your headquarters to present you with 
this token of appreciation for service rendered and 
deeds of bravery.’ 

“I am admitting I was nervous and all that, es- 
pecially when he said he was on his way to my head- 
quarters. I knew that if he did they would find out 
that I was counterfeiting myself for the real Cap- 
tain Andrews. 

“The general addressed me by my new title of 
major. ‘Major, how are things on your front?’ 
‘Well,’ said I, ‘the Unionists have us outnumbered 
at my point and have a tremendous store of muni- 
tions.’ Said he, ‘We will fool them, make a 
retreat tonight and strengthen our position. I am 
not telling all my plans but because of your valor 
and ability, I will confide in you that we have bluffed 
the north for the past six weeks, and if we can con- 
tinue our bluff we will win the war, otherwise we 
shall fail.’ Said I, ‘General Lee, I am glad to know 
the exact situation and will keep up my men’s spir- 
its. They have been eating poorly. ’ 

“The good old general almost cried as he ad- 
mitted it; but it must give credit for the encourage- 
ment he gave me. 

“You can rest assured that I was mighty happy 
when he said to me, ‘Well, Major, as long as I have 
met you here I won’t bother running down to your 
headquarters as I must see a number of commanders. 
You may anticipate receiving orders to retreat.’ 

“ ‘Goodbye General, I am obliged to you for 
this promotion,’ said I. 


128 


Yank — The Crusader 


‘Major Andrews, it is a pleasure to advance 
such worthy men. May God bless your efforts/ 
said he. 

“Truly, I was almost tempted to run my bluff. 
It was quite a jump from corporal to major, but I 
was soon on my way toward Union lines. 

“The best joke of all happened to me on my 
return. One of my own sentries spied me, and took 
a shot at me; he hit me in the leg. I ran toward 
him and surrendered. 

“I told him my story, and he wasn’t taking any 
chances so I was sent back to Grant’s headquarters 
as a spy. If you men had the time I’d show you the 
wound. 

“Men, I am glad that this opportunity came to 
me. General Grant called me in, and then and there 
I revealed my identity and told him my story. 

“That is the real inside story of how the North 
turned the tables on the South, and from that day on 
the Yanks were victorious. 

“Boys your train is pulling out. I’d like to tell 
you some other things, but I am sending my best 
wishes with you. Goodbye boys.” 

“Goodbye friend.” 

‘ ‘ Glad to have met you, ’ ’ said another. 

“Christy, on the level, do you swallow that line 
of dope,” said Fred. 

“Well, it would sound good in a novel,” replied 
Christy. 

“Guys, do you know I’d like to be able by some 
magic to gather all the stories of heroism in regard 
to this war, and put them in a book. I’d have some 
book,” said Shorty. 

“Eight you are,” said Fred. 

The train was speeding toward its destination 
when a country jay member of the company said, 
“That old veteran had a wonderful experience.” 



VILLAGE NKAR CHATOAU TIIIEUKY 






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129 


Rush to and at Point of Embarkation 

‘^Yes, but I didn^t notice any medals on him/^ 
said another. 

“Don^t you believe he spoke the truth T’ asked 
the farmer in such seriousness that the rest of the 
men howled in laughter. 

All along the way, the mens^ time was occupied 
studying the soldiers ’ manual, singing, reading, 
sightseeing and joking with the folks they met at 
the stations, parading in the large cities and 
keeping themselves clean and well fed. 

As the men were parading in a certain large city 
for exercise, the sergeant halted his platoon near a 
curbing, and a tall melancholy looking old maid 
singled out Christy and talked to him. 

‘‘You poor boys, going over in that mutilation 
. mill to be ruined for life. Oh I it makes my heart 
break, ’ ’ said the old maid shedding a few tears. 

“Ma’am,’’ Christy started to say something as 
she butted in. 

“Just to think you might never come back to 
us American girls.” 

Christy and the rest were thinking, if they were 
all as brave as she, there wouldn’t be much for which 
to return. 

She chattered on, “I do hope the Kaiser will be 
punished. My, to think that you may come back 
with a leg shot otf or an arm missing.” 

Christy was too considerate to say what he was 
thinking, so he politely informed the weeping nui- 
sance that the Kaiser would be amply punished and 
that the Yanks would have a part in it. 

“Dear, dear, you men will be such beasts when 
this is all over,” she bellowed, wasting more tears 

“Madam, may I — ” 

She cut him short with another volley of weep- 
ing, “Oh, I hope I shall never live to see it all. It 


130 


Yank — The Crusader 


is so horrible to think that all our best men will 
either be blind, crippled, or dead, boo, hooh.’^ 

‘‘Platoon, attention,^’ commanded the sergeant. 

“Squads left, march. 

The men delighted in teasing Christy about his 
pleasant and encouraging friend. 

“Oh dear, dear, youT be such a beast Christy, 
poked Shorty. 

‘ ‘ Say Christy, don T you think you will miss the 
weeping Minerva chimed in another. 

“Wouldn^t Christy be charming with only one 
legP’ suggested Fred . 

“Say, I believe you fellows are jealous of my 
new girl,’’ and the men enjoyed a good laugh at 
Christy’s expense. 

Turning to Fred, Christy said, “Setting all jokes 
aside, Molly is one of the prettiest girls I have ever 
seen. ’ ’ 

“I sure think so. I reckon we don’t argue on 
that point,” returned the cowboy. 

The men finally reached the point of embarka- 
tion after a trip nearly across the continent. They 
passed through the deserts of New Mexico, saw the 
possibilities of Oklahoma, viewed the grainfields of 
Kansas, Missouri and Iowa; many crossed the great 
Mississippi for the first time; they paraded in Chi- 
cago, getting a first glimpse of a large city; Indi- 
ana and Ohio showed the men their treasures, while 
smoky old Pennsylvania gave them an introduction 
to the greatest manufacturing center in the world. 

The mens’ vision was greatly enlarged the more 
they saw of the United States. They were proudly 
convinced of the fact that it is a country worth fight- 
ing for. 

The men were stationed at the embarkation camp 
for some three or four weeks, in order to be properly 
equipped for overseas service. 


131 


Rush to and at Point of Embarkation 

Each week end, a portion of the men were allowed 
a pass, so that they conld visit points of interest. 

Fred and Christy were lucky and received a pass 
for New York, the great metropolis of the world. 

^‘Christy, I reckon you’ll have to take the lead. 
I’m tellin’ you that I don’t think I can find my way 
about that burg.” 

^‘ All right Fred, the first thing I’ll do is see this 
expressman and have him direct us to a good hotel. ’ ’ 

^‘Four dollars a night to sleep I Why, Christy 
have you gone crazy?” questioned Fred. 

‘‘Never mind, Fred, the best is none too good 
while we are here,” answered Christy. 

“Ride them, cowboy, I’m for you. If maw could 
only see me now,” laughed Fred. 

They walked into the lobby of one of New York’s 
finest hotels. Said Fred, “Gosh, I feel funny, those 
darned hob-nailed boots make a heap o’ noise.” 

Said Christy, “Boy, we will sure attract some at- 
tention with these boots on, I can’t hear myself 
talk.” 

“I reckon I’d feel a heap better if I’d fall in one 
of those cracks, ’ ’ suggested the cowboy. 

“Yea, bo. So say we both of us,” added Christy. 

Christy walked up to the hotel clerk desk, paid 
for the room and then addressed him, “Mister, we 
are strangers in this city. Could you direct us to 
some points of interest?” 

An elderly man, with a pleasing personality, over- 
heard the request and said to the boys, “Today I 
have nothing to do. I invite you to be my guests at 
breakfast and after that we will take in as much as 
possible.” 

Mr. Jaeger, the host of the occasion, was a well 
educated and well-informed gentleman. He ex- 
plained how New York became the international 
trade center, how the city was divided into districts, 


132 


Yank — The Crusader 


one for woolen goods, one for mining, another the 
newspaper section, etc. 

The men learned the magnitude of the telephone 
and telegraph system. They were amazed by the 
activities of the stock exchange, and enjoyed watch- 
ing the goings-on of the curb-market. 

They walked up to old Trinity church and 
then over to its historic old chapel, and sat in the 
same pew used by General George Washington. 

They went through the Ghetto, the Bowery and 
all the many sections representing the different 
nationalities of the world. 

They saw the melting pot, and were shown how 
the immigrant came into the country, and how all 
the opportunities offered him advancement, and a 
chance to take a place among the citizens of the 
world’s greatest country. 

He showed them Brooklyn bridge during its busi- 
est hours. They rode on the subway, on the elevated, 
and last of all, just at dusk he took them to the 
top of the highest building in the world, seven 
hundred ninety-two feet and one inch. 

The night was upon them, and like magic from 
nearly every window a light gleamed forth. Christy, 
in a moment of wonderment, looked to the east, west, 
north, and south and then overpowered for want of 
a better expression he said, ‘‘This sight is a master 
monument to the genius of mankind. ’ ’ 

The day was strenuous and the boys were tired, 
so when supper was finished they didn’t have to be 
coaxed to retire. 

“Wow I a feather bed,” said Christy. 

“I can’t stand anything like that. I’ll have to 
sleep on the fioor,” said Sheldon. 

Several minutes of quiet followed the men to 
bed, then bang! and old Sheldon with pillow in hand 
was giving Christy a fair beating. 


133 


Rush to and at Point of Embarkation 

‘‘You big stiff/’ said Christy as he reciprocated, 
and before they knew it they tangled and sprawled 
out all over the floor. 

The day Yank completes his training in the good 
old U. S. A. is the day his play days are over and 
his hardships commence. Each step toward the 
front is harder than the one before. 


PART THREE 


CHAPTER XIII 

THE SHOVE-OFF 

The happiest moments in the life of a man are 
the ones he looks forward to with the greatest ex- 
pectancy. There are three such moments in 
Yank’s life: the first is the shove-ofp for France; 
the second is ‘ ‘ over the top, ’ ’ and the third, last and 
no doubt the best, is the day he returns to God’s 
country, the United States of America. 

The men generally do a bit of serious thinking 
the day before they embark. Christy sent his mother 
and father the following letter on that day : 

Dearest Mother and Father: 

The day has finally come that I have been antici- 
pating. We soon start for ‘^over there.” It is a 
pleasure to be able to leave this country knowing the 
strong traditions it has to strengthen me when I 
need strength. 

My prayers are for you. My life, my all, whatever 
I may be or do that is worthy and honorable, I can 
attribute to you and your watchful care over me 
when I was at the formative age. 

Should I bring disgrace upon the family name 
the fault is mine because you have lived noble lives. 
All that I have for you is admiration and love. 

Should it be my ill-fortune to cross in a doomed 
transport, my assurance of meeting you in the 
Promised Land gives me great comfort. 

Your loving son, 
Christy. 


136 


Yank — The Crusader 


The letter written, he arose from his desk with 
an extraordinary smile beaming forth from his 
countenance. It pleased his pal, Fred, so much that 
it was impossible for him to refrain from asking the 
source of his unusual joy. 

‘‘Fred, old boy, this is a clean bill of sale. You 
may read it, but may I tell you that you are the 
only one to whom I would confide so much,’^ said 
Christy. 

Fred read it, and for a moment a sober look came 
over his face as he said, “Christy, you are so 
thoughtful it puts me to shame. I reckon you ^re not 
carin^ if I pattern after you and write maw a letter 
on the order of that?’’ 

“Do it Fred, and while you write I shall run over 
to the bank and exchange our money for French 
money. ’ ’ 

“You ’re on Christy, old kid, ’ ’ said the big cowboy 
soldier as he picked up his pen to labor with a letter. 
It is true his letter was not as well arranged as 
Christy’s, but it came from the best in him and it 
gave much comfort to Mrs. Sheldon. 

Half an hour later Christy returned. Old Fred 
was standing up gazing at a picture of the old West 
entitled, “The Round-Up.” “Say, pard, I’m glad 
you’re back. You know for a minute I reckon I 
have been dreamin’ and God knows how I wish them 
dreams was true! I can see myself swinging the 
lariat and hear my old heart beat to the tune of my 
ponies’ trot. Gee! I can hear that coffee boilin’ over 
on the bonfire, and the odor of that sizzlin’ bacon 
whets my appetite for another term at that kind o’ 
life.” 

“Fred, your wild old soul took me with it all the 
way and I enjoyed the journey. Never mind kid, it 
won’t be long before you can take your turn at the 
round-up,” comforted Christy. 


137 


The Shove-Off 

‘^Christy, I reckon yon^re right if they round-up 
in heaven, ^ ’ answered Fred. 

‘‘Boy, I have never heard you speak that way,^^ 
remarked Christy. 

“I ain’t a giving up hope of coming back, not by 
a long shot, but I have a kind a hunch that I ain’t.” 

‘ ‘ Say, Fred, we have only ten minutes before our 
final overseas inspection. What do you say we go 
to our barracks and get ready ? ’ ’ 

“All right, just as soon as I mail this letter to 
maw. I kinda want you to read it and fix it up,” 
said Fred. 

“Fred, that is a dandy letter and I can find noth- 
ing to criticize,” answered Christy. 

All the men in the company were wearing a 
smile as they lugged their equipment out on the drill 
grounds for final overseas inspection. A few, but 
only a few of those smiles were forced, while the real 
genuine ones showed the eagerness of the men to get 
a crack at the Hun. The inspection over and every 
man had received his equipment. The captain is- 
sued orders to roll their overseas packs, and, as they 
did so, each man could not help feeling that the gov- 
ernment had only forgotten to issue to each man 
two things, one of them a cart, the other a mule. 

The overseas equipment consisted of a packcarrier 
and haversack; reserve rations, four boxes of hard- 
tack, a two-pound can of bully l3eef and a condiment 
can full of sugar, coffee and salt; a toilet outfit con- 
sisting of two towels, toothbrush, comb, steel mirror, 
razor, shaving brush and soap; clothing including 
two suits of underwear, a pair of trousers, a blouse, 
two woolen shirts, four pairs of heavy socks, a 
woolen overcoat, a raincoat, two pairs of big heavy 
hobnailed trench shoes, an overseas cap, a steel hel- 
met, spiral puttees, one pair of mittens, two pairs of 
leather gloves, a waist belt, an extra pair of shoe 


138 


Yank — The Crusader 


strings; Eed Cross articles, a sweater, wristlets, hel- 
mets and socks; bedding consisting of three woolen 
blankets, a shelter half, rope, five tent pins and a 
pole. Around the waist they wore a pistol belt with 
side arms consisting of a first-aid packet and pouch ; 
cup, canteen and canteen cover; holster, revolver and 
ammunition pouch. The most important part of the 
equipment was the mess kit, a meat can and cover 
with knife, fork, and spoon and outside of this equip- 
ment Yank did not have anything to carry unless he 
so desired. 

The men were happy when they had finished roll- 
ing their packs, and the mess sergeant announced 
that the banquet was ready to be served. 

^‘That Bert Smith is sure some cook,^^ said one 
of the men. 

‘‘I’ll say so,” added another. 

“Gee! that chicken and stuffin’ reminded me of 
maw’s cooking,” allowed Fred. 

“I’m sure full. I made a glutton of myself, but 
let me tell you I have a hunch that it is going to be a 
long while before we set down to such a spread 
again,” added Christy. 

The boys enjoyed their cigars and cigarettes and 
it was fascinating to watch the men put! to the tune 
of the music the band played. 

No speeches were made at this banquet, but sev- 
eral good vaudeville numbers sent the men to their 
places of rest in good spirits. 

“Christy, old pard, I ain’t in love with the idea of 
sleepin’ on the hard floor tonight.” 

“My sentiments exactly, Fred. What do you 
say we bunk over in the strawpile ? ’ ’ 

“I never thought of that. I reckon I won’t need 
much coaxing.” 

“All right, Fred. I’ll go over to the Y. M. C. A. 
and ask Scotty if he has any spare blankets.” 


139 


The Shove-Off 

^‘Christy themes the dope. Now if it don’t rain 
we’re jake.” 

say so,” said Christy. 

They spread their blankets out, took off their 
shoes, emptied their pockets and crawled under the 
covers. 

The boys were very talkative that night when 
Christy said, ‘‘Fred old boy, let us imagine the old 
heavens as a miiTor and in that mirror let us watch 
the activities of the world.” 

“I allow that I can guess at the first thing you’re 
seein’.” 

“What do you say it is?” 

“Christy, I’ll say it is a woman in your home in 
a big western town. ’ ’ 

“You are right again Fred; but let me tell you 
what else I see.” 

“It ain’t like me to be interruptin’ you,” returned 
the cowboy. 

“Old boy, I’m not thinking about the city and its 
white way, not by a long shot. 

“This is the great harvest season and as I look 
up into our mirror I see the extensive grain fields 
of the middle west ; I see the big threshing machines 
preparing an abundant harvest for the market and I 
see that wheat being milled into flour which feeds 
our armies. 

“Say, Fred, when I was a kid they nicknamed 
me Jam, hence I cannot overlook seeing the orch- 
ards yielding their rare abundance to the apple pick- 
ers and berries gathered in a thousand fields, all the 
different fruit markets of the country dumping their 
produce into the canneries where jam and preserves 
are being made for the men in khaki. 

“I see thousands and thousands of ranches like 
your own, unlimited acreage for thousands, yes mil- 
lions of cattle to graze upon. I see them being 


140 


Yank — The Crusader 


loaded into cars and trainload after trainload pulling 
into slaughter houses, where they are preparing meat 
to give us strength to carry on. 

‘‘The shepherd and his flock attract my atten- 
tion now, and I see the sheep shorn of their wool and 
running and romping over their pastures as their old 
coats are being hurried to the eastern woolen mills, 
where they are made into miles and miles of olive 
drab cloth for our uniforms. 

“I am enjoying seeing how the big clothes fac- 
tories are cutting and sewing the cloth together to 
make millions of shirts, trousers, overcoats and un- 
derwear for the fighting men of Old Glory. 

“I see the tanneries curing hides and shipping 
them to the shoemaker, who is turning out these 
strong, well-made shoes that you and I are going 
to hike to Berlin in. 

“I look up into the mountains of our country 
and see an enormous output of necessary metals of 
war: coal, iron ore and others. The coal is being 
used to keep the gigantic furnaces of war industry 
ablaze. The iron ore is being made into steel and 
distributed to different manufacturing centers. The 
harbors of our country are honey-combed with steel 
frames for the construction of ships for a great fleet. 
The manufacturing metropolis of the world, Penn- 
sylvania, is turning the raw material into cannon and 
ammunition. 

“I see the arsenals of our country meeting the 
demands of our army, and ready at any time to 
double or triple their capacity if necessary. 

“The majestic forests of the north are yielding 
their share, and there I see the old lumberjacks cut- 
ting huge trees, which are being milled into lumber 
for building cantonments, framework for aeroplanes, 
guns and wooden ships. 


141 


The Shove-Off 

‘‘The ^eat chemical laboratories are making im- 
portant discoveries, that will aid onr men in sanita- 
tion, and enable them to face the barbarous gas at- 
tacks of the foe. 

“I see methods of transportation being improved 
by the rapid output of autos and locomotives, which 
our new merchant marine is carrying to France every 
day. 

“I see the people of our nation contributing of 
their wealth more than is expected of them, vieing 
each other as they give the best of their mentality 
also to the service of the government in time of need. 

“The leaders of our country show me their high 
ideals and purposes for waging this war and I am 
thanking God for such noble men of affairs to lead us 
in the cause for which you and I are about to fight. 

“Yes, Fred, old boy, I cannot fail to mention 
the thing that inspires me most, the thing that gives 
me the greatest desire to fight until the last drop of 
blood. I see millions of mothers and sweethearts, 
some of them knitting and all of them doing 
the best they can to fill the vacancies left by the 
men. I see them laboring and toiling for the victory 
that means ‘peace on earth, good will to men.^ 

“Fred, that mirror has strengthened my purpose 
and if such is possible has increased my assurance 
of victory over the murderous Hun. ’ ^ 

A pause followed Christy ^s elaboration of the 
power of his country when Fred said, “Christy, I 
have never thought of all these things, but let me 
tell you what I am seein^ in the mirror.’’ 

“All right, Fred.” 

“Well, I reckon, old boy, as I’m looking up there 
I see a great big pond — big puffs of smoke are above 
a convoy of transports steaming toward France. 

“You and I are on one of them. We ain’t out in 
the ocean far when a submarine starts chasing us, 


142 


Yank — The Crusader 


when one of our seaplanes drops a depth bomb on it 
and a mixed-up concoction of submarines and Dutch- 
men go flying in the air. 

‘‘The convoy finally reaches France and our 
company runs down the gangplank and onto a train 
which hurries us to the front. 

“Kid, I see our old company advancing toward 
the front; on one side of me I see battery after 
battery of artillery going ahead; on the other side 
the infantry is maneuvering so that they can 
find their place of action. The artillery is set and 
we are passing it. 

“Gosh, bullets are whistling past us and shrap- 
nel shells are bursting. The air is getting warm 
from the heat of the guns. Our artillery starts open- 
ing fire and we are behind the infantry ready to 
open up on Fritzie boy. 

“I guess I am excited, but I hear the lieutenant 
say, ‘Follow me,’ and over the parapet we go into no- 
man ’s-land and find ourselves face to face with the 
enemy. I can see the bayonets that are gleaming 
and those that are stained with gore. I can hear 
the murderous thunder storm trying to outdo the 
etforts of anything the war-god ever dared dream of. 

“Man, my old heart is fairly turning summer- 
saults as the Hun despairs of facing us and turns in 
a wild retreat. 

‘ ‘ Our infantry is right on him, giving the blood- 
thirsty barbarian more than his share of hell. 

“A dandy position just beyond their first trench 
looms up and it is there we decide to mount our 
machine gun. In a jiffy we put it together, and in 
less than half that time I hear the rat-tat-tat-tat-tat 
vomiting forth its missiles of death in such a volley 
of fire, that it mows the enemy down like a McCor- 
mick mower cuts the hay in a pasture in the golden 
West, Man I can’t wait till I get into some of that 


The Shove-Off 143 

kind of excitement. It sure would make life worth 
while. ’ ^ 

Fred finished the picture which was no doubt 
characteristic of his natural longings. The pals said 
nothing for some minutes. They were listening to 
some of the more restless men giving vent to their 
energies in the old hut across the street. 

Nearly all night long a column of fours marched 
on the pavement toward the train. 

^^Fred, if only the Kaiser and his crowd could 
be here and hear those big old trench boots play 
their little song of victory on the pavement, I donT 
imagine the old madman would get much comfort 
from the tune.^^ 

reckon he wouldn’t at that, but Yank is play- 
ing him a similar tune on the western front that I 
allow is giving him a couple of sleepless nights, ’ ’ re- 
turned the cowboy. 

Before the rise of the morning sun the cowboy 
was feeling hostile and issued this challenge, 
^‘Christy, if you don’t pile out of those blankets 
you ’re in for a real roughing. ’ ’ 

‘‘It’ll take a bigger man than you, and what is 
more you haven’t eaten breakfast.” 

The big strawpile, the last day in the U. S. A., 
and all things considered, Fred couldn’t overcome 
the temptation, and with a big leap he landed on 
his pal, mauling him for all there was in it. 

“Say, Fred, you big stiff, keep out of my ribs. 
Don’t you know that’s where I live?” 

‘ ‘ Christy, I reckon you ’d make a good bronc, but 
I am aguessin’ I could ride you.” 

“Let us shake out these blankets, return them 
to the owner and then take a good hot bath, eat 
breakfast and be ready and rearing to go,” sug- 
gested Christy, a bit out of breath. 

“Are you whipped?” 


144 


Yank — The Crusader 


answer that question the second Tuesday of 
next week/^ answered Christy. 

They scrambled up and as a result of mutual 
agreement, they followed Christy ^s suggestion. 

‘ ‘ Say boys, I sure feel like a good breakfast when 
I look at those packs and know I have to carry them 
two miles before boarding the train, said Christy. 

The men ate, and as it is the custom in the army 
for the company that is leaving to clean the barracks 
for the one that is to follow, they swept the floors, 
washed the windows and left every comer spick and 
span. 

The whistle blew and the sergeant commanded 
the men to ‘ ‘ fall in, ’ ^ according to the way they were 
to march on the ship. It took only a second for the 
men to find their places, as everyone was ready to 
go. The report of the sergeant to the captain was, 
‘‘All present, sir.^^ The captain then ordered the 
men to sling their packs. 

The company was soon marching. They were 
cheered from the roadside by many men who were 
unfit for service and relegated to the depot brigade. 
These men were eyeing with envy the men who were 
on their way to take their places among the flower 
of the world’s manhood. 

“Gee! that two miles seemed like twenty,” said 
one of the men, as beads of perspiration formed little 
streamlets down his face. 

“Yes, and you carry that pack thirty miles a 
day, and you’ll have a right to complain.” 

The men were soon arranged on the train and 
for five hours they enjoyed their last ride on an 
American coach for many a day. 

“Boy, they tell me an American soldier can get 
all the wine he wants when he gets to France, ’ ’ said 
one of the men. 


145 


The Shove-0 fl 

Christy didn’t believe this, so he said: ‘‘I think 
you are wrong. However, we will wait until we get 
there. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ I know you are against spirits but let me make 
this prediction: If we can get wine and all we want 
of it you will see less drunkenness than you did 
when we were forbidden the use of liquors,” said 
the champion of liquor. 

”This thing I do know. If you put a bone in 
front of a dog’s nose he’ll snatch at it. If you are 
right about the soldiers being able to get wine in 
France, and the boys let loose and act worse than 
they have under these conditions, will you vote for 
prohibition next election?” proposed Christy, 
will,” was the reply. 

The men reached the destination of their last 
train ride, and were marched onto a ferry which took 
them to the docks where they would soon embark. 

They were lined up in single file and a nice Amer- 
ican Red Cross lady handed each man some cigar- 
ettes, a bar of chocolate, hot coffee and buns, and 
two postal cards upon which were written these 
words: ^^The ship on which I sailed has arrived 

safely overseas. Name , Co , Reg , 

American Expeditionary Forces.” 

The men immediately addressed the cards to 
their relatives and friends, and just as they ap- 
proached the gangplank they dropped them into a 
large mailsack. When the last man had dropped 
his in the bag, it was labeled and tied up, until a 
wireless was flashed across the Atlantic heralding 
the safe arrival of the ship. Then the bag was opened 
and the messages of good tidings were sent broad- 
cast to many anxious relatives and friends. 

Darkness soon fell. The gangplank was pulled 
in. The men had received little cards informing 


146 


Yank — The Crusader 


them of where they were to eat and sleep for the 
next ten or twelve days. 

They found their places and were soon on deck 
acquainting themselves with the different parts of 
the ship. 

‘ ‘ Say, pard, I reckon they won T be a pullin ^ out 
very soon. What do you say we sleep on deck to- 
night? I ainT exactly in love with them ham- 
mocks.^’ 

^‘Anything you say, Fred.” 

The pals were tired from the lack of sleep the 
preceding night, and the strenuous day they had just 
completed, so the hard bed didn ’t bother their sleep. 

‘‘Fred, we are still in the U. S. A.,” said Christy 
in the morning. 

“I’m sure glad. I want to take a good look at 
that Statue of Liberty, ’ ’ said Fred. 

The men ate breakfast and the whole deck was 
brown with men as the whistle blew. The tug steamed 
up and inch by inch pulled the big transport into 
the river. The band played and the men sang and 
hurrahed, as the ocean liner shoved off for “over 
there. ’ ’ 


CHAPTER XIV 

TRIP ACROSS ATLANTIC IN AN ARMY TRANSPORT 

‘^Hurrah! We are off!’’ cried one of the men. 

‘‘We won’t come back till it is over, over there,” 
added another. 

The band began to play “Goodbye Broadway, 
Hello France.” The men joined in on the chorus 
with an unusual amount of Yankee pep. 

‘ ‘ Fred, for fellows like you and me, it is certainly 
great to have this opportunity of crossing the At- 
lantic for the first time. ’ ’ 

Carl listened to the boys talk of the folks they 
were leaving when he said: “You fellows are dif- 
ferent from me in one respect. I am going closer to 
the one I care for most, while you are going away 
from your loved ones.” 

“That’s so, your sister is a Red Cross nurse in 
France,” said Christy. 

“She is, and I am sure going to hunt her when 
I get there,” said Carl. 

“That is natural, and we sure wish you the best 
of luck.” 

“Look over there. Gee, they are tall buildings,” 
said the cowboy. 

“The tallest in the world.” 

“I knew that was New York,” returned Fred. 

“You couldn’t know it better than I,” said Carl 
Stewart, as rather unpleasant memories of the past 
clouded his mind. 

“Did you ever live there?” 

“You might call it living, but I don’t. Those 
days that I spent on the Bowery and in Sing Sing — 


148 


Yank — The Crusader 


hell, I hate to recount them. They drive me mad. ^ ^ 

Christy noticed the Statue of Liberty in the dis- 
tanced and cleverly changed the line of Carl’s 
thought toward the great symbol of our country. 

^‘Yes, and you want to take a good long look at 
the dear woman because it will be some time before 
you will see it again,” said Carl. 

Carl’s advice was more or less unnecessary, as the 
men stood in wonder gazing at the huge bronze mon- 
ument and sending their goodbyes to her. Not one 
took an eye ofl of her until distance made it impos- 
sible for them to see her any more. 

‘^Boy, a fellow just naturally feels like he is 
really saying goodbye to a very good friend when 
Miss Liberty passes from his sight,” remarked the 
cowboy. 

^^You are mighty right,” said Christy. 

The big whistle blew, and the ship’s captain 
called to a gang of Hindu Lascars to let her go, and, 
bang! went a big chain clanging with a huge anchor 
going rapidly to the bottom of the ocean. The ship 
came to a stop and thus she stood for a 
number of hours while the convoy was being made 
up. Finally the sixteenth and last ship steamed into 
view. Several sub-chasers, two cruisers or destroy- 
ers, and the rest transports, formed the fleet. 

Late that afternoon the commander of the fleet 
gave the signal to start, and soon the big chains were 
drawing in the anchors and the men were really on 
their way as the ships were steaming at full speed 
ahead. Night and day, storm or calm, for ten days 
the fleet left its furrows behind. 

‘‘Chris, I sure do wish this transport was flying 
the Stars and Stripes,” declared Carl. 

“Naturally you do, and so do I. How about it, 
shorty?” 


149 


Trip Across Atlantic in an Army Transport 

‘‘Yea, bo, I have been looking over at that battle- 
ship. It flies Old Glory, so I ain’t half so afraid,” 
admitted Shorty. 

“You bet. That flag sure looks good on that 
pole,” said Fred. 

“Say, I spoke to one of these English sailors 
and the flrst thing he did was to tell me how Eng- 
land was transporting all our troops. Gee! that 
made me boil, and I told him a few things,” said 
Carl. 

“We must be fair with Great Britain. She is a 
great sea power and has paid a big price in men, 
money and ships in this war,” said Christy. 

“Yes ,that’s true, but I don’t like the English 
anyway. They tried to grab our country and couldn’t 
do it,” returned Carl, angrily. 

“Yes, that was a long time ago and we don’t 
hold any grudges. The truth is, that they are our 
allies, and if some thoughtless subject of any of our 
allies should in any way try to cheapen our efforts 
in this war, we should not retaliate by trying to be- 
little the efforts of his country. Our president says 
we are only a single champion of democracy,” re- 
plied Christy. 

“You are right. Because another man steals is 
no reason why I should,” agreed Carl. 

“I can’t flgure out the reason for painting all 
these ships that way. I can’t see as it does any 
good, but I reckon Uncle Sam isn’t wasting any 
paint,” said Fred. 

“The camouflage is supposed to make the ship 
invisible at a shorter distance, or to fool the enemy 
as to its shape,” answered a bystander who knew. 

“Look up there,” said Shorty, as he pointed to a 
seaplane cutting fancy capers in the air. 

“I wonder if it is going all the way across?” 
asked one of the men. 


150 


Yank — The Crusader 


doubt it. It will see us out of the danger zone 
and will return/’ said a fellow who was on his sec- 
ond trip over. 

The buzz of the propeller could be heard for a 
long distance and there Christy stood awestruck and 
hypnotized, as he watched the birdman speed and 
play in the air. ‘‘Man, I sure envy that aviator. I 
would transfer into that branch of the service to- 
morrow if they would let me.” 

“Yes, an’ pard, here’s another who would like to 
ride one of them bird broncos,” said Fred. 

“I sure hate to carry one of these big, burden- 
some life-preservers all through this trip,” said one 
of the men, as the bugler played the call to quarters. 
In several minutes the decks were cleared of men. 

Assembly blew and the men were given their first 
boat drill. They were lined up and ready to avail 
themselves of the lifeboats and rafts in just three 
and a half minutes. 

“Fred, that gymnasium exercise is sure some 
stunt. It takes a contortionist to keep his feet as 
the boat sways from side to side,” said Carl. 

“Yes, and that is the first time since I was drunk 
that I lost my balance, ’ ’ said Fred. 

“Hey, Shorty, what’s the trouble? Ha, ha,” 
shouted Christy. 

“Well, I hope youse guys are enjoying your- 
selves,” said Shorty, a bit sore to think he was the 
first victim. 

“I am sure of one thing, Shorty: the whales will 
sure enjoy their dinner,” said Christy as the men 
laughed and kidded Shorty for all there was in it. 

“Hell, youse guys will ” and he did about 

face, adding another course to the whales’ dinner. 

‘ ‘ Supper is ready. Shorty. ’ ’ 

“I don’t want no supper,” said Shorty, rather 
feebly. 


151 


Trip Across Atlantic in an Army Transport 

^^Fred, I have been hunting for you ever since 
supper/’ said Christy. 

^^Well, pard, I met the ‘Y’ man upstairs. I told 
him about you and he wants to meet you. I told 
him I reckoned you had nothing to do, so I would 
find you.” 

‘‘Fred, I will be glad to meet him.” 

“Mr. , what did you say your name was?” 

said Fred embarrassed for his inability to remember 
names. 

The good-natured, elderly gentleman smiled and 
kindly jested when he said: “I haven’t changed 
my name. It was and is Mr. Wicks.” 

“Mr. Wicks, this is my partner, Christy Strong, 
the fellow I was telling you about.” 

“Mr. Strong, I am glad to know you. This is 
my co-worker, another Y. M. C. A. secretary, Mr. 
McKeough. ’ ’ 

“Mr. Strong, we are both inexperienced when 
it comes to doing Y. M. C. A. work. Mr. Wicks is 
a banker and I am a railroader, so we feel mighty 
lucky to meet you. We feel assured of a successful 
and pleasant trip,” said Mr. McKeough. 

“Gentlemen, I can assure you that it is a pleas* 
ure to make your acquaintance. Don’t be backward 
about using Fred and me. We are both willing to 
serve the men. Here are several letters of recom 
mendation to show you that we are not counterfeit, ’ ’ 
said Christy. 

“We know you are all right but nevertheless will 
be interested in the letters,” complimented Mr. 
Wicks. 

To Whom it May Concern: 

Christy Strong is the leader of the gospel team 

of the division. The men have done fine 

work in Camp Dix. No place is too humble, no task 


152 


Yank — The Crusader 


too hard and no night too stormy for them to respond 
to any request for service. They are competent and 
able to take charge of any service in tent or hut. 

During their stay in Camp Dix they have secured 
256 decisions for Christian living. 

They have the fullest confidence of the Y. M. C. A. 
force in Camp Dix and our prayers will follow them 
as they go overseas. 

Faithfully yours, 

Thomas E. Thobum. 

‘‘That is fine,’’ said Mr. Wicks. 

The next day “the pals” received an order from 
regimental headquarters. Evidently the ‘‘Y” men 
had been at work because Fred and Christy were 
detailed for the whole trip to do Y. M. C. A. work. 

Christy and Fred made their bunk on the deck 
close to the ‘‘Y” room. No matter the kind of 
weather, the boys slept on deck and enjoyed it. 

The men were three days out when old hobo Carl 
hurried toward Fred as he stood in the doorway 
handing out stationery and cheer to the men. ‘ ‘ Say, 
Fred, I am found out,” said he. 

“What have you been doing?” said Fred, willing 
to give Carl a brotherly lift any time, no matter the 
crime. 

“The ship captain has found the purp,” he an- 
swered almost in a broken-hearted manner. 

“Are they going to throw him overboard?” 
asked Fred. 

“The gruff old cuss said he’d have to get rid of 
him somehow.” 

“Never mind. We will save old Bobby,” assured 
Fred. 

“Gosh! I wish I could take your word for it,” 
said Carl. 


153 


Trip Across Atlantic in an Army Transport 

^‘They are going to dump our mascot over- 
board/’ said Fred to each man as he handed him a 
sheet of paper. Soon the news spread all through 
the ship. Men of all ranks could be heard express- 
ing their disapproval of throwing their pet over- 
board. 

The captain maintained: ^^An order is an order, 
and there is one that forbids mascots in the Ameri- 
can Expeditionary Force, hence the animal must be 
disposed of.” The captain was strong-willed and 
was about to order his crew to drown the animal. 
He can thank his lucky stars that a Lascar in the 
crows nest had sighted a trans-Atlantic mail boat 
bound for the U. S. A., for the throwing of Bob into 
the ocean would have caused mutiny on the ship, 
and a need for a new captain. 

He called to his signal officer to wigwag the 
American-bound ship, and this was his message: 

‘‘Draw close to our port side. I have a passenger 
for America.” 

The mail liner pulled up to about ten yards of the 
big transport and a rope ladder was stretched from 
ship to ship, upon which a British seaman crossed, 
carrying Bob to the postoffice. 

The boys cheered their mascot, as they saw him 
find safe conveyance home. The skipper in the mail 
ship had a rather surprised look when he found out 
who his new passenger was to be, but as he looked 
into the tanned faces of the khaki-clad youths in the 
other ship, he appreciated the incident and took 
Bobby from the sailor, and held him in his arms until 
the mangy little cur could not see his company any 
longer. 

^^Geel I’m sure Bob will receive good care on 
our ranch. Scotch is getting too old to be of much 
value,” said Fred. 


154 


Yank — The Crusader 


‘‘Do you think they will send him to your 
ranch r’ inquired Shorty. 

“Really, I believe they will,^^ said Christy. 

“Reckon that address that Christy wrote on that 
tag will do the business/^ complimented the big 
cowpuncher 

“Mr. Mailman: 

“I am Bobby, the mascot of the 135th M. Or, Co. 
The men I love and bummed around with are going 
‘over there ^ to fight for you, it is their desire 
that you recompense them by delivering me to the 
address on the other side. Signed: 

“M. G. Co.— the Whole Gang.^’ • 

The sun set in a clear blue sky like a huge ball 
of crimson fire. It sank into the ocean, shooting up 
gleaming rays toward the heavens until the moon 
faded them into solitude by its glittering, glistening 
pristine beauty. 

“Boy, this is a wonderful night, said Christy, 
taking a deep breath. 

One of the men said: “I love to look out on the 
ocean and see the waves break in that trail of moon- 
light. ’ ^ 

“I reckon that nights like these are for festivals 
that the mermaids attend, ^ ’ said Fred. 

“Why, Fred, that is a novel idea. I suppose 
they press a button and on comes the moon,’^ joked 
Carl. 

“No, but honest now, donT this be a bully big 
night? said Fred. 

“You bet, old boy, I am sure enjoying every sec- 
ond of it.’’ 

Christy left the bunch, for something told him 
that he should take a few minutes in thought and 
reverence by himself, and as he sought his place of 


155 


Trip Across Atlantic in an Army Transport 

seclusion he joined several groups and listened to 
their brand of ^‘dope.’’ 

Frank, do you know that getting used to sleep- 
ing in those hammocks is like getting used to sleep 
ing with a rattlesnake?’’ 

^‘Well, Ned, I don’t know how you look at the 
proposition of a gang of men eating and sleeping 
in the same place. I am telling you it is 
giving me a craving to get back to th^e wild life in 
Alaska, where there are no limitations and no 
hounds wherein man can lay his weary bones.” 

‘‘Gosh, fellows, I’d sure like to smoke now.” 
said one of the men in the circle. 

Another piped in: “Here’s another that would 
like to light up, but I am not taking a chance. They 
say orders are to open fire on any matchlight. Cigar- 
ettes haven’t grip enough to take such a chance.” 

“Say, do you know the cigarette habit is to 
America what the hop habit was to China?” said 
Frank. 

“I’d give anything if I hadn’t started,” said one. 

Christy left this bunch with the idea of being 
alone, but he was attracted by a number of men 
singing and spent a little while with them, adding 
his voice and making more or less harmony. 

Weary and tired from meeting so many men 
and conversing with them on as many different sub- 
jects, Christy found much rest and pleasure in the 
few minutes he stood alone on the aft of the ship. 
He stood communing with his Creator, asking for 
forgiveness and strength and courage. 

The next morning when the men awakened they 
found a stormy sea. The waves would splash against 
the side of the transport and cover everything on 
deck. 

On one of the ships of the convoy several men 
were standing on deck as a large wave raised over it 


156 


Yank — The Crusader 


and took two of the men out into the ocean. The 
wave carried one to his fate among the sharks, while 
it favored the other by returning him to the deck, a 
very much worried young man. 

‘‘Say, boys, this is the first time I have appre- 
ciated these life-preservers. They sure keep you 
warm,’’ said Shorty. 

“You birds might not believe it, but when I was 
a youngster my maw used to tell me about great 
men of the world. Boy, I’m telling you I have in- 
creased my respect for Christopher Columbus since 
taking this trip,” said Fred. 

“Yes, and to think that he had only a cigar box 
to travel in,” put in Carl Stewart. 

“Assembly” blew and all the men hurried to 
their places on the deck, and as the last man found 
his place, the ship’s captain, in spite of his grufiF 
ways, gave way to a genuine smile of appreciation 
and complimented the men thus : “It has taken you 
men just one minute and forty seconds to find your 
places. The lime is especially good considering that 
we are in the most dangerous part of the submarine 
zone. You are always there when you are needed 
most.” 

“Boys, how would you like to see the machinery 
of the ship?” inquired Christy. 

“Beckon they’d allow us down there?” said 
Fred. 

“I am sure of that,” said Christy. 

“We are for it,” said the men and they followed 
Christy as he led them into a room where the power 
was made that is used to propel the big transport. 

“Oh, I say, ole chop, ’ow many are you?” 
greeted the chief engineer as Christy approached 
him. 

“Four of us,” was the reply. 


157 


Trip Across Atlantic in an Army Transport 

I say, I am bloody sure you would like to 
see the ^ole place and ’ave me explain it to you/’ 

‘‘That is the reason we came down,” said Christy. 

“This bloody part is the first thing, — the big 
eight cylinders with eight-inch bores and a four-foot 
stroke. The steam is used four times and then con- 
densed into water and kept in a continuous process 
until we reach the other side. We carry fresh water 
for our engines. 

“The eight big furnaces develop sixteen hundred 
pounds of steam, which develop six thousand horse- 
power. Let us go into the furnace room.” 

“Isn’t this a heap to be floatin’?” said Fred. 

“I’ll say so,” agreed Shorty. 

“Comrades, I say that in those coal bins we are 
carrying four thousand tons of coal. We use a hun- 
dred tons a day. ’ ’ 

“Gee! I’d hate to take those Hindus’ jobs. If 
hell is hotter ’n this here place I’m sure glad I 
changed cars,” said Fred. 

‘ ‘ Those Indians must be crazy, they carry on so, ’ ’ 
said Shorty. 

‘ ‘ ’Ow would you chaps like to go down the shaft 
tunnel?” 

“We’ll try anything once,” boasted Fred. 

“This shaft is ninety feet long and fourteen 
inches in diameter, made of the best steel. It 
weighs about one hundred tons. The propeller blades 
are eighteen feet high and eighteen inches wide, and 
three such blades on each propeller.” 

“Thank you, sir, for your kindness. We appre- 
ciate it. Believe me this has been worth the whole 
trip,” said Christy. 

“Some name he called you, Carl. ‘I say, ole chor), 
you bloomin’, blasted, bloody bloak’,” mocked 
Shorty. 


158 Yank — The Crusader 

‘‘Even at that the old bird was a good old scout/ ^ 
said Fred. 

The men had started something, because, as they 
told their comrades of the machinery, it gave them 
a desire to see it. 

Christy and Fred returned to their Y. M. C. A. 
work, when an officer informed Christy, that he had 
been selected to censor some of the mail. This was 
an experience that our friend didnT really care for, 
but after he had read a few of the letters he enjoyed 
the job as much as if he were attending the funniest 
of all comedies. Herein are included some of the 
letters he read: 

Dear Girlie: 

I ainT nowhere much. I ainT writing from 
anywhere much and am not writing on any special 
day much. The cause for my troubles is that censor 
man. He tells us we canT tell you anything that 
will be information for the enemy. So I am not go- 
ing to disobey orders. I still love you. 

Your feller, Jake. 

Dear Brother: 

I am going to write you a few lines to tell you 
that I am on the high seas. * * * This is the first 
letter I have written under the ban of censorship. 
Let me tell you that I bet he’ll leave the address 
even at that. * * * 

In closing, I hope that you get this letter. If 
you don’t, write me anyway. Your brother, 

Phillip. 

Dear Wife and Baby: 

Your hubby is getting closer to the firing lines. 
I am somewhere on the ocean. I don’t remember 
the name of the last station we stopped at or I would 


159 


Trip Across Atlantic in an Army 'Transport 

tell you. Ha, ha, that’s a good one. At least, we 
didn’t get out and parade. 

The land will sure look good and when you re- 
ceive this letter I will be somewhere in France. 

Your Loving Husband. 

P. S. Thank the kid for praying for me. I am 
sure that his prayers will be answered. 

Dear Maw: 

I reckon you will be surprised to know that your 
kid is traveling on the ocean in a big boat. 

Say, maw, if they intend to build a bridge across 
the ocean, I reckon you’ll have to wait until it’s 
finished before you see me again. 

Gosh, I was about to tell you something and then 
I had a funny feeling in my stomach and I didn’t 
want to spoil this letter, so I double-timed to the 
railing and threw up everything save my boots, and 
the hobnails saved them. 

Well, there isn’t a heap to talk about so I’ll tell 
it all to you when I get home. Gosh, I’ll have a lot 
to tell you. Your kid, Cyrus. 

Christy finished his work late that night. The 
next morning the men awakened, only to get the first 
glimpse of land they had had for some days. Christy 
took a little walk toward the aft where he stood be- 
side an Irishman by the name of Murphy, who, with 
tears in his eyes, made the following remark: ‘Must 
to tink of it. It hoits like ’ell. There are about tin 
thousand Murphys on that island going barefooted 
and ’ere am I well dressed.” 

Christy did not answer. He was in no mood to 
sympathize with his friend Mike, so he walked away 
chuckling to himself. 

“Say, boy, what are you bubbling over about?” 
asked Fred of his chum. 


160 


Yank — The Crusader 


Christy told the story of the ten thousand bare- 
footed Murphys and they enjoyed the joke together. 
Fred could not refrain from mentioning: ‘‘I allow 
that is some family to be a worryin’ about. 

^‘Fred, it sure seemed good to see those sub- 
chasers come out to meet our convoy.’’ 

“I’ll say so, kid. Speed is their middle name,” 
answered the good-natured cowboy. 

Bang! bang! and the battle was on. A subma- 
rine had shot and thank God, missed. It was a rev- 
elation to see our gunners aim and fire in that di- 
rection. The depth bomb of the seaplane did the 
business, according to reports we received on our 
ship. 

Shorty had managed to be quiet for about — well, 
it seemed a long time — when he said, half apologet- 
ically: 

“Guys, I wish I was on the land over there. I 
never did like the ocean.” 

“I guess there are many who feel that way about 
it now,” answered Christy. ^ 

“Some real excitement at last,” said Fred. 

“That was some old battle,” added Carl. 

“Goodnight. I am admitting that the water 
seemed mighty close to the deck.” 

“Yea, bo, and I am tollin’ you I had my leggins 
off and my shoestrings untied ready to take off my 
shoes,” said Carl. 

“I reckon that was a clever idea, Carl. Them 
shoes would sure enough be a disadvantage in case 
you’d want to swim to shore,” said Fred. 

“Have you seen the corporal who has been 
worrying himself sick about submarines?” inquired 
Carl. 

“Why, that big coward, he couldn’t lead me 
across an irrigation ditch in peace times, let alone 



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Trip Across Atlantic in an Army Transport 161 

trying to lead a man into no-man ^s-land,^^ answered 
Fred. 

Many fish schooners were passed. The men were 
glad to learn that the next morning they would de- 
bark. The rest of the time on the boat was the 
happiest and jolliest of the whole trip. 

Some time during the night the anchor was let 
down in the river Mersey. Lights from the light- 
house that night were greeted with a warm welcome. 

The next morning the men awakened to find 
themselves enveloped by a fog, which compared with 
the darkest of cloudy nights. It was so thick they 
could not see the water below. 

The fog began to rise about midday, when the 
men could see the dim outlines of the lighthouse and 
gradually the roofs of the buildings came into view, 
until the whole city was clearly revealed. Then the 
anchor was raised, and a tug pulled up beside the 
transport, and brought it to shore. 

Ships on every side and wharves piled up with 
the products of their country I It was a real revela- 
tion to the boys to walk down the gangplank and 
plant their feet on good old terra firma. 

‘‘We are here, at last,’’ said Christy. 

“Thank God we are here and all together, too,” 
said Carl. 

The men, although stiff from the lack of exer- 
cise and weak from the want of comfortable sleep 
and proper food, ran down the gangplank like a 
bunch of young colts. 

Christy could not help exclaiming, and in so doing, 
he expressed the sentiment of every soldier of Old 
Glory who has landed on foreign soil: “Boys, T am 
glad to be here because it’s a time I’ve looked for- 
ward to for some days, weeks and months, but let 
me tell you I will be much more glad when I plant 
my feet on good American soil. ’ ’ 


CHAPTER XV 

THE WAR SPIRIT OF GREAT BRITAIN 

The men were very happy to set foot on good old 
mother earth, even though on foreign soil. 

‘‘The whole world is queer save thee and me 
and sometimes even thee seems queer to me.’^ The 
men from now on will meet strange people with queer 
habits and customs of living. 

Unfortunately for the country and also for the 
true impressions of the men, they were hurried 
through war-ridden countries of four years’ stand- 
ing. Naturally, the countries could not be normal. 
The backbone of these countries were taking a peace- 
ful nap with six feet of earth to separate them from 
the noise of the cannon or were at the front fighting 
for the same thing that brought us into the quarrel. 
The cities were run down, unclean, unsightly, and 
consequently uninviting to the critical eye of the 
stranger. 

It is truthfully said, that the people make a coun- 
try. The trip the Yanks took across England auto- 
matically introduced them to the waif of the 
wharves, the slums, and on up to the royal bloods. 

The more Yank saw of foreign soil, the greater 
was his desire to return to God’s country, our own 
United States of America. 

The ship was tied to the dock and from the decks 
Yank showered coins upon the kiddies who had gath- 
ered to greet them. 

“That policeman sure looks like a circus clown, 
with his unshaven face, his helmet and his big star,” 
remarked one of the men. 


163 


The War Spirit of Great Britain 

‘‘Have you any more change? I’d like to watch 
the kids scramble.” 

The men were marched down the gangplank and 
a la army style were lined up along the side of the 
pad, waiting for orders. Yank spent his first hour 
in England watching the procession of foreigners 
like children watch a circus parade. 

“Well, I’ll be gol darned, if here don’t come a 
flivver,” said Fred, as all the men turned around to 
meet the road louse of America, exclaiming in cho- 
rus: “Gee, that buggy sure looks good.” 

“I reckon you boys have been noticin’ the big 
horses they have in this country,” said Fred. 

“They are large animals.” returned Christy, ad- 
ding: “You notice they hitch their horses in front 
of each other instead of side by side.” 

“Yes, and instead of traveling on the right side 
of the road they take the left,” added Shorty. 

“Yank, do you want some ‘sky’?” asked a kid 
not over twelve years old, as he showed the men the 
bottle he was carrying in his trouser front. 

Fred asked, “How much?” 

“Two dollars, Yank,” was the reply. 

“Kid, don’t your feet get cold?” asked Carl of 
a dirty-faced, ragged, little bum whose feet were 
sticking out of the front and back of his shoes. 

“Don’t notice it, Yank,” said he. 

All through their march in Liverpool, a gang of 
these kids followed them, trying to sell their booze. 
They no doubt thought they were doing a patriotic 
work. Judging from the comment on the liquor, the 
young urchins must have made a comfortable 
margin. 

“Fred, did you ever see such a sight in yom 
life?” questioned Christy after they had marched 
through the slums of Liverpool. 


164 


Yank — The Crusader 


“I never reckoned their was so many kids in all 
the world,’’ suggested Fred. 

‘^Eags, and more of them, wrap their little bodies, 
and talk about dirty faces! They sure beat anything 
I have ever seen,” added Shorty. 

“Did you notice their rosy cheeks and large 
heads?” asked Christy. 

“Man, it almost broke my heart to see them old 
women dive after the coin that the men threw to the 
kids,” remarked Fred. 

“They sure appear to need the money,” added 
Carl. 

“That is the sad part of it,” added the big- 
hearted cowboy. 

“Yes, it is a pitiful sight, and for my part, I would 
just as soon, and much rather, have some of our great 
war-work organizations care for some of these folks 
that the war has made needy instead of buying me 
some cigarettes and candy,” added Christy. 

“Them’s my sentiments,” Shorty put in. 

“Yes, and mine,” emphasized the western char- 
acter. 

One thing that impressed the marchers, as they 
passed through the city toward their train, was the 
cheering of the people, who had already seen hun- 
dreds of thousands of Yanks pass by. Their cheer- 
ing showed the boys that they had not lost the spirit 
of victory. 

“Hello! an American woman. Boys, get your 
cups out; she is serving coffee,” said Fred. 

The boys single-filed, and eagerly awaited their 
turn in line. In that line was one more eager than 
the rest when he spied the Eed Cross arm band on 
the young lady. Said he: “Lady, it sure seems good 
to see a real American woman. What part of the 
States are you from?” 


165 


The War Spirit of Great Britain 

‘‘St. Louis, Missouri,’’ answered the soldiers’ 
friend. 

“Have you ever met my sister, Anna Stewart? 
She is a Eed Cross nurse,” said Carl. 

“No, Mr. Stewart, but I am so glad to meet her 
brother, because I have heard of her wonderful deeds 
of mercy and bravery. My name is Miss Alta June, ’ ’ 
answered the charming young lady, bidding Carl 
goodbye and wishing him the best of luck. 

A Tommy handed to each Yank an envelope en- 
graved with these words: “A Message from the 
King.” He handed Christy one, who said: “The 
King told me he’d be down to see me, but I guess 
he thought that it would be all right to write me.” 

“By heck, I reckon old George won’t forget the 
days he spent on my ranch,” said Fred, and thus 
familiar remarks were passed concerning his royal 
highness’ letter. 

Windsor Castle. 

Soldiers of the United States: 

The people of the British Isles welcome you on 
your way to take your stand beside the armies of 
many nations now fighting in the old world the great 
battle for human freedom. 

The Allies will gain new spirit and new heart in 
your company. I wish I could shake the hand of 
each one of you and bid you Godspeed on your mis- 
sion. * 

April, 1918. George, E. I. 

The men were then crowded into third class 
English coaches which, unlike our American coaches, 
do not have aisles between two rows of seats, but are 
divided into four or five rooms with steps on the 
outside as their only means of communication. It 
takes two of these English coaches to compare favor- 
ably in size with an American car. 


166 


Yank — The Crusader 


Eight men and eight overseas packs filled the 
little room to a capacity load. Even at that the men 
slept fairly well, as they were too tired to do other- 
wise. It made the fellows sore when they pulled into 
Winchester at 2 a. m. and had to climb a long hill 
with their packs on their backs. 

‘^Goodnight, (yawn) I am sure sleepy,^’ said Carl 
as he laid his pack on the floor of his first home on 
foreign soil. 

‘‘This is a dirty place for an American soldier 
to lay his head, ’ ^ said Shorty, as the sergeant called : 
“You men who want something to eat, get your mess 
kits and fall in.^^ 

The men forgot their tired feeling and proceeded 
to fill a spot that had been more or less unburdened 
since the day they embarked. 

They then went to bed, some sleeping while others 
listened to them sleep. 

“Throw a shoe at him,’^ said a much-vexed sol- 
dier who had been listening to the guilty party in- 
dustriously “sawing wood.’’ 

“Kill him,” called another. 

Bang! biff! went a hob nailed barrage that missed 
its intended victim, and on he snored, much to the 
pleasure of his friends. 

“Let him alone; it is the only time he ever 
works,” said another. 

“Wake him up, so we can get a head start on 
him,” called another. 

“Wake up, you little runt,” said the cowboy as 
he grabbed and shook old Shorty. 

“Ah-h-h, wh-what do you want?” said he, again 
coming into the land of the living. 

“Ha, ha, ha; that’s a good one on Shorty. Who 
is the girl from Michigan?” questioned Fred. 

“Did you hear him talking in his sleep?” asked 
Carl. 


167 


The War Spirit of Great Britain 

“I hope I did/^ answered Christy. 

I talk in my sleep T’ asked Shorty, still far 
from awake. 

‘‘I’ll say so, and it is a good thing your mother 
don’t hear you,” kidded the big cowboy. 

“Well, I’m a telling you I haven’t done anything 
to be ashamed of,” prompted Shorty, feeling a bit 
guilty and ready to clear himself of any suspicion. 

“Some folks aren’t ashamed of the same things 
others are rightfully ashamed of,” said Christy. 

“Now, youse guys is working a frame-up on me. 
What did I say?” 

“I don’t remember exactly but you asked that 
Michigan girl to give you one more kiss,” volun- 
teered Fred, as the listeners enjoyed another good 
one on Shorty. 

“Yes, and what is more you told her that you 
would call your auto and have your valet escort the 
lady home,” added Carl. 

The men all joked about Shorty’s auto and valet 
for some time and to this day they still guy him 
about it. 

“You guys will be late for reveille,” suggested 
Shorty, willing to do anything to sidetrack the men. 

“No reveille this morning,” said one of the men, 
as they continued relating the happenings of the 
night. 

“Boy, I was sure walking in my sleep last night,” 
said Fred. 

“The old earth was rocking and swaying. I could 
not get rid of that ocean sensation,” said Christy. 

“That was the same sensation I had,” remarked 
Carl. 

“It didn’t bother me,” said one. 

Breakfast over, Fred remarked : ‘ ‘ Boy, that food 
was really great.” 


168 


Yank — The Crusader 


^‘You bet. American cooking can^t be beat/’ 
said Carl. 

All the men who ate the rations of onr Allies 
were always glad to get back to eating with Uncle 
Sam. 

‘‘Boy, I’ll never wash another dish when I get 
out of this man’s army,” said Fred. 

“Here’s another in the same boat,” added 
Christy. 

“Fred, you take a bath while I wash my clothes 
and then we will change off. This is the camp in 
which we are to clean up ourselves and our belong- 
ings,” said Christy. 

“You’re on, Christy. I reckon you’re not for- 
gettin that this will be the longest we have been 
apart for near a fortnight. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ That is so, but it will be good for you to get rid 
of me.” 

“I reckon not,” said Fred. 

The men had finished cleaning themselves and 
their clothing and thus worked up a good appetite. 

That afternoon, the company fell in for a hike 
which gave the men a glimpse of an English city 
and its people. 

The men were allowed to talk in ranks and even 
before they had left the camp they were each holding 
a kiddie or two by the hand. Some, not taller than a 
frog’s back, would try to bum a cigarette from Yank. 

“Fred, it is a bit funny to see those lads smoking. 
I don’t like to see it encouraged. 

“Do you reckon those tykes will make a habit 
of it?” 

“Fred, it is certain they won’t overlook any 
opportunities to bum all they can. ’ ’ 

The little kids, half-fed as they were, walked all 
the way in spite of the fact, that they had to take 
two steps to Yank’s one. Yes, and nearly all of 


169 


The War Spirit of Great Britain 

them ran back to one kin<i of a shop or another in 
order to spend the money that Yankee boy gave 
them. 

‘‘Boy, yon keep that candy. That’s why I gave 
you that coin, ’ ’ said the big cowboy. 

“Me share with my Yank,” said the lad, as he 
pleaded and forced Fred to be sociable. 

“Goodbye, Yank,” said the boy. 

“Goodbye, kid,” said the cowboy. 

The next day the same lads waited for their big 
Yankee friends. This time three or four made quite 
a scramble for Fred’s hand, which resulted in a little 
hostility among them. 

The lad who had taken a liking to Christy the 
day before ran up to him, crying: “Say, I told 
mother of my Yank and she says I can bring you and 
your chum to tea this evening. Will you come?” 

Christy hesitated and said: “We will gladly ac- 
cept your kindness.” 

“I’ll show you to our home after the march,” 
volunteered the boy. 

“Come, lad, and eat dinner with us,” invited 
Christy. 

“No thank you. Mother will have tea ready so 
we must hurry, ’ ’ said the curly-haired, rosy-cheeked 
blondy. 

“Fred, we are invited out, so we must get 
passes.” 

“All right, pard, and together the three went to 
the sergeant and received permission to be absent. 

“Mother, dear, these are our Yankee friends,” 
said the cheerful little boy. 

Not less cheerfully were the boys welcomed into 
the home. “My boys, what may be your names?” 
inquired the smiling mother. 


170 


Yank — The Crusader 


‘‘Yes, I am so glad to be your hostess tonight. 
Son, introduce your two sisters to Mr. Strong and 
Mr. Sheldon, while I lay the spread. 

“Jack, dear, you draw the chairs to the table 
and we will have tea.^^ 

The men ate what the war had spared the home- 
folks of England. Sugar and wheat flour products 
were not on the bill of fare. The boys forgot about 
satisfying their appetites as they were charmed by 
their new friends. 

The men left the home of their English friends 
and Christy asked: “Fred, you said so little. May I 
ask your reason?’’ 

“Well, Christy, I ain’t got no education nor re- 
finement and then I couldn’t keep my mind off those 
two vacant places at the table, one marked ‘Brother’ 
and the other ‘Dad.’ I reckon the war won’t hit our 
country that hard.” 

“You can get by anywhere,” said Christy. 

“Yes, boy, but it makes a heap o’ difference. I 
just couldn’t get my mind olf the sacrifice one family 
was making,” commented Fred. 

“It gives a fellow an idea of what these people 
are doing.” 

“You know I kinda enjoyed the tea an’ those 
muffins an I reckon by the way you were talkin to the 
girls you enjoyed them.” 

“Yes, Fred, you are right. They are fine girls. 
Did you notice that, like their mother, they referred 
often to their brother and their dad at the front?” 

“Pard, I’m a tollin’ you this is a mighty pretty 
country and them hedges, trimmed as they are, add 
to its beauty.” 

“Fred, have you noticed that nearly every home 
in England is named?” 

“I had not, but come to think of it you are right. ’ ’ 


171 


The War Spirit of Great Britain 

‘‘This is a quaint and beautiful country but the 
cities show lack of care/’ said Christy. 

“I reckon you have been noticin’ a lot of Tom- 
mies with an arm or leg cut off,” said Fred. “It 
makes you boil with passion to get a crack at the 
Hun.” 

# * # # * 

Every day since Fred left the U. S. A. Molly Mc- 
Byde started early in the morning to meet the mail- 
man, so that she might get some news of her absent 
lover’s welfare. Each minute seemed a day, and the 
days stretched into centuries, until one day the mail 
carrier brought that token of good news — the safety- 
arrival card. 

She hurriedly turned and in a hippety-hop fashion 
she danced down the winding country road that led 
her to that little cottage where, anxiously waiting, 
was another heart beating for news of a cowboy 
“over there.” 

Almost wild and overcome by joy, Molly heralded 
the good news to Mother McByde. The two hugged 
each other, rejoicing in the good news, and when, 
finally, the good Irish woman baker had gathered 
her wits together she opened the oven only to find 
a black, smoking thing in the shape of so much 
bread. 

“Ay told ye there be an angel watching over 
our bye, ’ ’ said Mrs. McByde. 

Molly answered : ‘ ‘ Mother, our prayers helped. ’ ’ 

“Sure, an faith, Molly, me girl, I am sure ye kin 
be restin’ in peace. Ye be a lookin’ wornout.” 

“Yes, mother dear, now I won’t need to worry 
about those submarines.” 

“Ay told ye it be foolish to be a worryin’ about 
him.” 

“But mother, why were you always saying, ‘I 
wonder how our boy is today’?” 


172 


Yank — The Crusader 


‘‘Yis, Molly, I was a bit consamed, ’ ’ admitted 
Mrs. McByde. 

Over the hills bat not far away another overseas 
card gave comfort to another. 

The thousands of homes that were made happy 
by these messages had their own way of thanking 
God. 

Christy addressed one to his mother and the other 
to Helen Grant. 

One Saturday afternoon the postman dropped 
the card in the Grant mailbox and our friend, the 
brave writer of the letter which threatened Christy 
for paying attention to Helen, that noble Bully Har- 
vey, happened to open the mailbox and find the card 
among some letters. The letters he gave to Mrs. 
Grant, but the card he put in his pocket. 

Helen said, ‘ ‘ Mother, I wonder why we don T hear 
from Christy r’ 

have been wondering that same thing myself. 
Suppose you call up Mrs. Strong and find out if she 
has received any word 7 ’ ’ 

‘‘Central, give me Blue 257.’’ 

“Is this Mrs. Strong talking?” 

‘ ‘ I am Helen Grant. Mother wants to know if you 
have heard from Christy. Is he safe?” 

“Yes, I received a card today, saying that he had 
arrived safely overseas.” 

“Oh,” and forgetting all courtesies, Helen hung 
up the receiver and in a rampant rage she came at 
her mother in a fashion contrary to her usual sweet 
disposition. “Mother, I told you he didn’t care for 
me! I knew it all the time! I don’t see why he 
couldn’t have written me. I’ll never talk to him 
again. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Why, Helen, you never gave him to understand 
that you cared for him. The truth is that I have 


173 


TJve War Spirit of Great Britain 

been worrying that I would be motber-in-law to that 
Harvey fellow/^ said Mrs. Grant. 

‘‘Bully is at least considerate of me,’’ hesitated 
Helen. 

Mr. Harvey made his usual Sunday call at the 
Grant home. Helen and he took a ride in his car. 

“Helen, I am so happy. We can get married now. 
The draft board has exempted me from military 
service. ’ ’ 

The young lady suddenly realized for the first 
time that her heart was somewhere in France and 
she answered him like this: “Bully, I like you as I 
would a brother but not as a lover.” 

The ordinary man would take the hint, but this 
extraordinary man flattered himself with the ego 
idea of his ability to influence Helen to become his 
wife. He never overlooked an opportunity to cheapen 
Christy in her estimation and Christy’s seeming 
neglect to write her was made much of by this young 
patriot. 

* # # # * 

Some soldiers are alforded the opportunity to 
write while others are not. Christy, unfortunately, 
missed his when he visited the English home. He 
was some days on foreign soil before he could find 
the time and stationery together. 

The men were ordered to dry all clothing and get 
themselves in readiness to move at a moment’s no- 
tice. Uncle Sam wasted no time and moved troops 
from England to France with admirable dispatch. 

‘ ‘ Christy, they be a callin ’ this a rest and cleanup 
camp, but I am namin’ it Camp Sleepless. I could 
feel all kinds of things a crawlin’ over me. Golly, 
my imagination ran wild,” said Fred in his easy- 
going, cowboy fashion. 

“Youse isn’t the only guy what felt crumby,” 
said Shorty. 


174 


Yank — The Crusader 


‘‘The pals’’ were headed in the direction of 
the Y. M. 0. A. with the idea of writing 
some letters, but unfortunately for Christy his friend 
introduced him to the secretary as an ex-secretary. 

The secretary nabbed Christy then and there and 
thus he lost another and last chance to write his 
friends. “You are the very man I want. Every 
night we close this ‘Y’ with a sacred meeting. Can 
I get your gospel team to lead it tonight?” 

It was a late hour to get his gospel team together, 
so he volunteered: “Sir, I’ll do anything within my 
poor power to extend the kingdom of God. May I 
ask you how you found out about our gospel team?” 

‘ ‘ Several of your men have spoken about it, Mr. 
Strong.” 

When the meeting was over a big burly fellow 
who had seen service at the front came up to Christy 
and grabbed his hand, saying, “My name is Ser- 
geant Paulson and I want to tell you that I enjoyed 
your talk very much. You shoot straight. Anyone 
with more than an ivory head could get your mean- 
ing. Your talk beat any sermon I ever listened to. 
I am going straight from tonight on. Shake on it.” 

“Old boy, what I do or say comes because I pay 
the price of preparation in prayer to the Almighty. 
Believe me, it does my old heart good to know of your 
decision. ’ ’ 

A number of men gathered about Christy to ex- 
press appreciation of his talk. 

Soldier fashion and true to nature, the men 
wanted to hear about the trench life first handed, so 
they sat around Sergeant Paulson as he told some 
weird tales of the trench. 

Said he: “The one thing that attracted my at- 
tention to what Christy had to say was his reference 
to the homefolks and the debt of honor we owe 
them. 


175 


The War Spirit of Great Britain 

“I didn^t mean to make you homesick,^’ said 
Christy. 

‘‘You can’t do that as I am not returning to 
America,” said Paulson. 

“Why not?” asked Christy, a bit stunned. 

“You see, it is like this: I used to have a sweet- 
heart back home. Now I am a wreck physically and 
the same mentally. I wrote her a letter, telling of 
my condition. We were engaged but I told her I 
didn’t want to use her as a crutch the rest of her 
life. I advised her if she desired to break our bond 
she shouldn’t answer my letter and I would know 
that she didn ’t want me. It has been three months 
and sixteen days since I wrote that letter. I have 
not received an answer, so I am staying in England 
because I know I couldn’t stay away from her if I 
returned. ’ ’ 

“My boy, maybe the ship that carried that letter 
was sunk?” suggested Christy. 

“I have thought of that myself, but it isn’t fair 
to burden her heart with a wreck like me. ’ ’ 

Christy and Paulson had a short, confidential 
talk and as a result another letter was addressed to 
Somewhere-in-America. 

Paulson contended, “A man who is crazy to get 
into the trenches is sure crazy; at least they are gen- 
erally crazier to get out of them. I hope the war is 
over before you fellows have to go through that 
hell of hells.” 

The men said nothing for the next hour as Paul- 
son took them “over the top” with him. 

Lights out, and the men bid each other the best 
of luck. 

“Christy, I allow that I could listen to that fel- 
low all night,” said Fred. 

“Well, Fred, I am a good listener to such as he,” 
said Christy. 


176 


Yank — The Crusader 


‘‘Man, that guy had some real experience,^’ said 
Shorty. 

“You know that he has a mighty honorable no- 
tion about treating his girl. If I am disabled I reckon 
I’ll do the same,” said Fred. 

“Personally, I can’t believe in such a stand be- 
cause if a girl really loves you, it will work a great 
hardship on her,” said Christy. 

“I am admitting there is some room for argu- 
ment, Christy, old boy,” said Fred. 

“It must iDe a source of great satisfaction for 
you, Christy, when men compliment you and promise 
to live better,” said Carl. 

“Carl, I have no right to any credit because I 
let God use me as he sees fit.” 

“You are sure being used to do a heap o’ good,” 
complimented Fred. 

The next morning the men again rolled their 
packs, marched to the station, boarded the train and 
were hurried to the point of embarkation, which 
meant a trip across the English Channel. 

The men were packed into an old Pacific liner, 
with barely room to stand, and in these crowded 
quarters they were doomed to spend the long night. 

There has been no hardship endured by the Amer- 
ican soldier that he is not proud of, not from the 
point of boasting — for boasting is hated by men of 
action — but from the fact that he is proud to have 
had his part in bringing victory to Old Glory. 


CHAPTER XVI 

YANK SEEING FRANCES FROM A BOXCAR PULLMAN 

‘‘At last! We are in France.’^ 

“At last!” said another, 

“Thank God we are here. It is twelve months 
since I enlisted.” 

“Well, I was drafted, but I am telling you that I 
am glad to be here,” added another crusader. 

“It is hard to believe, but sure enough there is 
the tri-color.” 

“Fred, can you realize that we are somewhere- 
in-France?” 

“Yes, Christy, and I reckon it is for a rather ex- 
citing visit.” 

The men debarked and unslung their packs. Then 
they returned to unload and police-up the ship. 

“I am not a-kiddin^ youse guys when I say, ‘War 
is hell.’ Some of these officers are the devil’s worst.” 

“What is the matter now?” asked Christy. 

“Matter enough. That weasel-faced lieutenant 
stood about three feet from me while I was strug- 
gling to put a big officer’s pack on my back. The 
bum wouldn’t even give me a lift.” 

“That is one bird I ain’t much use for. I allow 
if an enemy’s bullet don’t get him, one of our own 
will.” 

“Say, fellows, did you hear the one that the top 
kicker slipped on him?” asked Carl. 

“No, let us hear it.” 

“The Lewie told old John that he was informed 
that the men planned on bumping him off. John an- 


178 


Yank — The Crusader 


swered him: ‘Well, I guess the guys ain^t afraid of 
you. They wonT shoot you from behind.’ ” 

This story amused the men and, adding to their 
joy, came another cause for laughter. The ship of- 
ficer had just finished lowering the gangplank. A 
minute or so later snoopy Mr. Lieutenant returned 
to the deck after a tour of trouble finding. Like a 
dunce he stood on the upper deck, the gangplank 
on the dock. The ship officer ordered the gang- 
plank to he raised. Imagine the shave-tail’s humili- 
ation as he stepped down the gangplank amid the 
horse-laugh of his whole company. 

France was the place where a man’s rank as an 
officer was respected by the enlisted men, only when 
the officer was big or bigger than his job. Officers, 
who gained the respect and confidence of their men, 
were always obeyed in a fine spirit. 

The minute the men landed in France they felt 
more than ever their part in the war and wanted 
to take it as nobly and finely as possible. 

“Wouldn’t that cork your preserves! Just our 
blamed luck; another hill to climb as long as the 
pearly steps to heaven,” said Carl. 

“Why kick? We shook one jinx anyway. We 
moved in the morning instead of at night. ’ ’ 

“That’s the boy. Shorty. I knew you would soon 
see life as it really is,” said Christy. 

“Carl, I reckon you will be pleased to know we 
are headed for an English rest camp,” smiled Fred. 

The men climbed the hill and reached the camp. 
They were assigned to their tents and then fell in 
for mess. 

“That is sure bunk to hand out breakfast tickets 
to American soldiers,” grumbled Carl. 

Christy was hungry and what he received merely 
served to tease him and for the time he sided in with 


179 


Yank Seeing France from a Boxcar Pullman 

Carl. The Tommy had a right to declare war on 
the Yanks for what was said. 

‘^Shorty, you had better run over to the camp 
quartermaster and get some sky hooks,’’ suggested 
Christy. 

^‘Sky hooks!” grinned Shorty. ‘‘What are you 
trying to slip over on me? You big stiff, I was a 
man when you were still wabbling in swaddling 
clothes. ’ ’ 

“Well, Shorty, twelve of us have to sleep in here. 
You are the smallest, so it would be safer for you 
to sleep in the air with the sky hooks supporting 
you. It’s a cinch there isn’t enough room on the 
floor. ’ ’ 

“You can’t come that on me.” 

* # * * # 

“What’s the grand idea? Forty men to one of 
these four-wheeled box cars. Goodnight ! Three days 
and three nights,” said Carl. 

“That is packing ’em fairly snug,” admitted 
Shorty. 

Bing! bang! bumped the rusty spring bumpers 
as the “frog” engine backed up in order to get a 
start. 

“What are you looking so thoughtful about?” 
questioned Christy of Shorty. 

“I ain’t a kickin’ or anything, but I am going 
to suggest to the high moguls of this railroad to add 
three more men to each car so we can sleep without 
falling over.” 

“I allow they will say that is a clever idea.” 

“Hey! Quit your shoving or you’ll push me 
out. We can’t all squeeze in the door at once. Ain’t 
you no sense?” hollered Shorty to a rather selfish 
young man, with whom we will get better acquainted 
as the story advances. 


180 


Yank — The Crusader 


Naturally everyone was anxious to see as much 
of France as possible. Forty men could not find 
room in the alloted space, therefore the unlucky ones 
must patiently await their opportunity to grab one 
of these seats. 

You might ask ‘‘Why didn’t the men get out 
and sit on top of the boxcars?” but such signs as 
these were posted in all railroad stations: 

“ Two hundred soldiers killed. Why? They 

sat on top of boxcars and came to a tunnel with only 
six inches clearance.” 

“Dead soldiers can’t fight. Help whip the Hun. 
Don’t sit on tops of trains.” 

“Some men are hard — mainly in the head. Never 
was a man’s head hard enough to go through the 
top of a tunnel.” 

You might better ask: “Why didn’t the men get 
out and walk?” If they did and the train happened 
to go down a long hill it might go so fast that it 
would crack the men’s stiff joints to catch up 
with it. 

The men ate supper and with the darkness came 
the cold. They closed the doors when someone sug- 
gested that they go to bed. 

“Some bed,” sarcastically commented someone. 

“Move over, my hip is on a bolt head,” said 
another. 

“That isn’t anything to complain about. Three 
men are using me for a foot rest and my pack just 
fell on my face, ’ ’ complained another. 

“Home, sweet, sweet, sweet home,” chimed in 
another. 

“Shorty, move over,” suggested Eent. 

Shorty was suspicious of Eent and rightly so; 
therefore he lit a match and found the big hog better 
fixed by far than he was. 


Yank Seeing France from a Boxcar Pullman 181 

‘‘You better do a bit of moving yourself or 1^11 
bust ye in the eye,” retorted Shorty. 

Eent shammed sleep but he shared some of his 
space with Shorty as the result of a well directed 
kick in the shins. 

“By the count, let us turn over,” called Christy. 

“I’m for it, but some one will have to untie my 
legs first.” 

“Are you ready? Let’s go — One, two, three,” and 
no one moved. 

“What’s the matter?” 

“I reckon we all found a soft spot and didn’t 
care about being disturbed,” said the cowboy. 

“Youse guys are in luck. I am sleeping over a 
flat wheel. I am also going to suggest to the head 
gink of this road that he might enjoy a larger pat- 
ronage if he would use round wheels on his cars. 

“Say, you long, lean, lanky nut, keep your feet 
out of my mouth. When I want a toothpick. I’ll 
tell you,” emphasized one of the boys. 

“Whose feet are these?” 

No one answered. 

“You better take them out of my face or ” 

“Come on, fellows, let’s not threaten. I allow we 
are all suffering the same inconvenience,” said the 
cowboy. 

“I have a new idea. Let us sleep in relays. Half 
of us sleep while the rest stand,” called Christy. 

“That is a bright idea. I am for it, but I must 
be on the first relay.” 

The trouble was in the fact that all the men 
wanted to be on the first relay. 

The day was peeking through the numerous 
cracks in the box car when Fred shouted: “It’s time 
to get up and milk the cows.” 

The first fellow up said: “Let’s eat breakfast.” 
Every one stood up and stretched their tired bones 


182 


Yank — The Crusader 


and then took to the ‘‘Corned Willie and hardtack. 
They existed on this until noon when they again 
shared bread and “Corned Willie.’’ All the meals 
on the train consisted of this great variety of food. 

Some of the men were sitting down, some stand- 
ing up and some kneeling while they were eating. 
The train was speeding down hill when the engineer 
suddenly put on the brakes. 

Bang! Clang! Boom! Biff! Bing! The old cars 
jerked each other and as for the occupants — a mess 
was messed up by the jolt. 

“Umph! Oh, gi-give me some air,” said a Yank 
who had found himself on the pit of his stomach 
spinning around on Fred’s head. 

‘ ‘ Pard, I allowed that you were perched up there 
for the rest of the day,” said the cowboy as he felt 
his neck to see if his bones were all together. 

“Ha, ha, ha,” rang a chorus of happy voices as 
they noticed old Eent in the comer with his face 
plastered with “Corned Willie” and tomatoes. 

Breakfast thus interrupted, the men gathered up 
the fragments of their feed after spending some 
time separating the same from their blankets and 
equipment. They made the following claims: 

“Gosh! Wow! I almost had a bite in my mouth. 
The next thing I remember was collecting my mess 
kit from all parts of the car. ’ ’ 

“Golly, I was all heaped up in the comer.” 

Another half-dazed victim added: “The French 
make their boxcars out of blamed good lumber. Gee! 
My head feels like it butted out the end of the car 
but I can’t even find a dent.” 

The men finally regained their balance and were 
soon forgetting their disappointment over their 
breakfast. 


183 


Yank Seeing France from a Boxcar Pullman 

The train pulled into a French town. There was 
a mademoiselle busily engaged misunderstanding 
Yanks ^ French. 

Fortunately in Christy’s car there was a fellow 
who could speak good French. 

‘‘Say Plant, what do you reckon old Frenchie is 
talking about?” asked Fred. 

‘‘Serg.,” he says, “you Americans won’t quit 
until you kill all the Germans.” 

‘ ‘ They sure admire the Americans, ’ ’ said Christy. 

“It’s a privilege to fight for such an appreciative 
bunch of people,” added Carl. 

“Hey, Plant, what did she say?” asked an eager 
Yank. 

“Come on, tell us.” 

“I am sure going to learn to ‘parley vous’,” said 
another. 

“Parley vous, Francais?” asked a sergeant of a 
young lady who came to the other side of the car. 

“Oui, Oui,” was the reply. 

He had taken a few lessons in French. It was 
comical to watch him put a sentence together and 
then have the fair damsel say: “ Je ne compris, je ne 
compris. ’ ’ 

“Kid, they don’t understand your French,” ad- 
vised Shorty. 

Christy added: “You will have to teach these 
folks how to speak French.” The bunch enjoyed 
the sergeant’s disgust for the young mademoiselle 
for not understanding his French. 

Bang! Clang! Again the train managed to get 
started. French books were the objects of Yanks’ 
desires. Some of the men found them in their coats, 
while others tore their packs apart in quest of them. 

A few minutes later a Chinese school was in ses- 
sion. The men were studying out loud and asking 
Professor Plant numerous questions about pronounc- 


184 


Yank — The Crusader 


ing. One would say: ‘‘Vin Blanc”; another, ^^Vin 
Eonge”; someone else, ‘‘Beauconp”; another, 
^‘L^pain”; still another, ^‘Tonte de Suite.” 

‘‘Hurrah!” called the once disgusted hut now 
elated sergeant, as he scored heavily. The reason for 
his burst of hilarity may be accounted for because 
of the fact that he called to a mademoiselle, “Oui, 
La, La, kiss papa.” She saluted accordingly. 

“Hey fellows,” called Carl as he pointed to some 
soldiers in green uniforms. 

“One of those low-down Huns,” said Shorty. 

“I wonder why they print ‘P. G.’ on their 
backs?” 

“I guess because they are German prisoners.” 

‘ ‘ Some look like kids of sixteen years, ’ ^ remarked 
one of the men.” 

“The French guard don’t seem to worry about 
them running away,” said Christy. 

“They are being treated too well for anything 
like that.” 

“They are a lucky pack of hounds.” 

“I’ll say so.” 

“I wonder what they are thinking when they 
see so many Yanks?” said Christy. 

“I’ll bet they are thanking God for their luck 
and if they are at all decent they are praying for 
the souls of their comrades in arms,” added Carl. 

The train pulled into a large railroad center. The 
men were noticing everything. 

“I hate to see those women smashing baggage,” 
said Shorty. 

“It is a shame,” agreed Carl. 

“Boys, here comes a real American engine. What 
is going to happen?” asked Carl. 

“Christy, do you know where those black sol- 
diers with the red-tassled caps are from?” 

“They are Algerians.” 


185 


Yank Seeing France from a Boxcar Pullman 

‘‘See those Eussian soldiers? They are big men. 
They are dressed for cold weather. Their large hats 
must be made from unsheared sheepskins. ^ ^ 

“A Eed Cross car is pulling in,’^ called Christy. 

“They are certainly dandy cars,’’ said Carl. 

The Eed Cross train stopped. Some of the boys 
went through the cars, while others stood on the out- 
side and talked to the wounded. 

“Fred, I am mighty sorry for those fellows.” 

“They appeared to be happy.” 

“I guess it is a rest to get away from the front.” 

The men were a little different as they continued 
their trip. Before they had never seen any of Uncle 
Sam’s war victims. They had only seen the excite- 
ment; they only heard the bands and the shouts of 
their friends. Now they saw the wounded and heard 
their stories. 

The men did some thinking as the train rambled 
along. Yes, both the good and the bad. The good, 
because they had some bad in them ; the bad, because 
they had enough good in them to care. 

The journey was almost over. Yank had trav- 
eled from one end of France to the other. He had 
seen the farming sections, the manufacturing towns, 
the cities, the towns and the villages. 

Christy remarked: “Fellows, in many ways 
France is the same as the United States. It is true, 
the farms are not so big as ours. They don’t have 
modem implements. It is interesting to watch the 
oxen slowly dragging the plow. Their houses, cha- 
teaus and castles have a touch of the ancient.” 

“Their good roads impress me. Their railroads 
depress me,” said Carl. 

“I reckon they don’t have the room, but you 
don’t see many cattle,” remarked Fred. 

“They sure make use of everything,” said 
Shorty. 


186 


Yank — The Crusader 


Everyone enjoyed a dilapidated feeling after be- 
ing bumped from rail to rail. 

^^Gee! I am glad that ride is over,^^ said Carl. 

^ ^ So am I, ’ ’ came from a dozen bystanders. 

The men marched through a village that had 
never seen any American soldiers. 

The friendly invaders passed through a line of 
admiring French folks. Yank could hear them say: 
‘‘Beaucoup, L^Amerique/^ ‘‘Bon L’Ajnerique.” 

The children would ask for “Souvenir li^Amer- 
ique. ’ ^ 

The men soon made many friends. Like in our 
own country a man found what he was looking for. 
The young man looking for the good French home 
found it, and the reverse was also true. 


CHAPTER XVH 

TRAINING BEHIND THE FRONT 

The Yanks were sent into the trenches, some with , 
much training behind the lines, while others had 
very little, if any. There were many ways too nu- 
merous to mention to tell how they finally reached 
the front. 

The men were assigned to their billets; one was 
a deserted house of three rooms with a nice, hard, 
red tile floor for Yank to sleep on; the second was 
in a French cowbarn, where eight-four men were 
billeted. Forty-eight were given four, nice, large 
airy rooms in a chateau, in one of which they could 
read, write and play the piano. 

‘^The pals’’ were assigned to the cowbarn. 
Christy said: ^^Let us take that corner.” 

‘H’m on; I reckon one part of this place smells 
as musty as the other,” answered Fred. 

‘^Say, I imagine those old spider webs were 
started in the time of Caesar,” said Christy. 

‘‘Let’s clean out this place before making it our 
home,” said Sergeant Sheldon, and no sooner was 
the suggestion made than the boys started to work 
on it. 

The next morning no bugle sounded or if it did 
no one heard it. Everyone was making up for lost 
sleep. The straw tick was extremely inviting to say 
the least. 

Rays of light were shining through the round 
window, the only means of illumination in that hay- 
loft. Christy awakened later than usual and found 


188 


Yank — The Crusader 


that the men were still sleeping. He whispered to 
Fred: guess I’ll get up and shave.” 

reckon you mean a haircut. Listen, take care 
not to step through the womout stairway. I nearly 
broke my fool neck on it.” 

“I ain’t a gettin up today,” said Shorty. 

‘^No, not until mess call anyway,” chimed in 
Carl. 

‘‘Say, hoy, I sure slept,” said one. 

“That shows that you are used to sleeping in 
bams,” said another. 

“Youse birds better get up and read your under- 
wear,” said Shorty, as he itched in one spot and 
then another. 

Shorty started something, mainly the men’s im- 
aginations, and under the spell they started scratch- 
ing and took Shorty’s advice. They found there were 
none of the guilty creatures, therefore they were 
comforted, and on the strength of it they slipped 
under the covers until Christy returned to tell them : 
“Boys, I sure feel great. I shaved, washed my teeth 
and combed my hair. I recommend it to all of you. ’ ’ 

One by one the men uncovered, dressed and went 
through the ordeal of cleaning up for the first time 
in what seemed like a century. It was nearly dinner 
time when they finished their job. 

The kitchen was always the popular spot in 
France. All the men were glad to have Bert Smith 
mnning that popular spot. 

“Let her go!” said Bert. The bugler played 
their favorite call and the men lined up with mess 
kits in hand and received a good feed, though under 
the circumstances, of course^ Bert could not put out 
what he did in the U. S. A. 

“How about going swimming this afternoon?” 
asked Christy while the men sat on the damp green 
grass making a table out of their laps. 


189 


Training Behind the Front 

a rearing to said Fred. 

^‘Here’s another for the venture. That pond 
will he mighty muddy when we do the little stunt/ ^ 
said Carl. 

‘‘My old underclothes will stand up by them- 
selves and if I could convince myself they wouldnT 
break off, I^d wash them after swimming. 

“You guys hear how strong Christy’s socks are? 
That five-ton truck got stuck in a mudhole and after 
four horses and a company of men failed to pull it 
out, these Strong socks did the trick, ’ ’ smiled Shorty. 

“Strong is my name.” 

“Oui, Oui,” returned Shorty, giving the men to 
understand that he was not neglecting his education 
in French. “I am going up for seconds, that slum 
tastes like more.” 

“Eat, but you must work,” said Christy. 

“By gosh, you can tell who does the work around 
here by how much he eats, ’ ’ returned the soldier in 
question. 

The men had their swim and then strolled in 
different directions, their main purpose being to see 
the adjacent country. Before the men left the cap- 
tain announced: “There is wine in this country. 
The French drink it in place of water. Men, I know 
you won’t be foolish. When you begin to feel good, 
come home.” 

“Christy, you don’t appear to be happy. I told 
you that you could buy spirits in France,” said the 
fellow who had made the claim that soldiers could 
buy liquor in France. 

“Friend, you were right about it, too much so. 
I hope you are right about the men being able to 
contain themselves, but I am afraid,” said Christy. 

“I guess I knew what I was talking about,” per- 
sisted the champion of booze. 


190 


Yank — The Crusader 


Maybe so and maybe not. We will know to- 
night whether you vote a dry ticket next election, ’ ^ 
returned Christy. 

Cowboy Sheldon and Christy took another hike. 
They planned their future. They had really found 
in each other a something that made them want to 
stay together. Fred’s vision had been broadened 
and his interest in men had been opened by his touch 
with Christy. Christy’s love for the blue sky and 
love of adventure were deepened by his contact with 
the cowboy from the wild and woolly west. 

‘‘Fred, I must admit that I have been wondering 
how we are going to hitch up in civilian life. We 
must plan pooling our energies together and giving 
our best to the world. It cannot be otherwise, ’ ’ said 
Christy. 

“A rough ranger like me can’t be of much help 
to you. My calling is on the ranch,” said Fred. 

“Fred, you are a man among men. You are un- 
like many folks. You can make a choice.” 

“I reckon that brother can run the ranch and I 
know Molly will approve of your idea,” said Fred. 

“You have it planned already,” said Christy. 

“Christy, I ain’t much for thro win’ bouquets. 
The men all agree your talks are better than any 
sermons they have listened to. They know you 
speak from the heart. Pard, that is why T am for 
your proposition,” complimented Fred. 

Christy blushed and was found wanting for some- 
thing to say for the first time in many a day. He 
then pictured to his cowboy friend ambitions for 
the future in a manner similar to this: “Fred, I 
am convinced that the Bible is God’s plan; in it He 
discloses his plans for you and me and our fellow- 
men. Men should know God’s plan. You and I, as 
believers, have a responsibility, namely, to tell the 
story to our fellowmen.” 


Training Behind the Front 191 

“Pard, you are right. Your sentiments are ex- 
pressing it my way, ’ ^ said the cowboy, with a simple, 
childlike faith in his pal. 

‘ ‘ The pals ’ ’ hiked and hiked on an every-winding 
French road and planned and planned. Their plans 
were saturated with the highest and nobles of am- 
bitions. They were so sacred that it would not be 
right to make them public. 

Fortunately for some of their comrades, ^Hhe 
pals’^ chose a short cut home, which led them 
through a certain village. They had not passed the 
town very far, when a fellow staggered from the 
side of the road: can wh-whip anyone in the 

w-w-world; yes, and youse are included.’^ He made 
a pass at Sheldon and almost smashed his nose 
against the pavement. He was soon on his way to 
his billet. 

^‘Christy, look who is ‘zig-zag.’ I allowed he 
had better sense.” 

“Fred, we will wash him up. I never saw such 
a rotten, filthy mess. It is bad enough to see hogs 
wallow in swill but to see a human wallowing in his 
own vomit is the worst thing I can imagine,” re- 
marked Christy, almost disgusted and discouraged 
with the world and all therein. 

The champion of booze was one of those indi- 
viduals who knew when to stop and also was busy 
leading helpless ones home. Said he: “Christy, you 
are right. ‘You put a bone before a dog’s nose and 
he’ll snatch at it,’ as you said. I never saw so much 
drunkenness. It is too bad. I am going to keep my 
promise even though I know the nature of the beast 
is to seek the object of his thirsts and appetites. I 
am for closing it all out.” 

“So am I,” said Christy. 

“Those newspaper men, preachers and others 
that have been writing in the newspapers and maga- 


192 


Yank — The Crusader 


zines about how sober the A. E. F. is, I just reckon 
those divine, choppies must be looking out of the 
wrong end of the telescope when they come over 
here. No, our boys don^t drink only when they can 
get it.’’ 

The boys had been drinking much water and to 
change to the French custom of drinking wine and 
try to keep the same capacity was just a bit too 
much of a change. Not all or even a majority of 
our boys did the drinking, but many did. 

The next day the company was taken for a long 
hike. The after-effects of the day before were fairly 
well cured by this method. The captain gave the 
men this song and dance: ‘‘I am disgusted with 
the whole outfit. Many of you made hogs of your- 
selves. Those of you who did, know that you are 
liable to a court-martial. You are not going to get 
it, or I would better say that if you were court- 
martialed most of the company would be serving 
time. 

‘‘Some of the interesting incidents of yesterday’s 
celebration were these : One of my men, standing in 
the door of a cafe, instead of giving me a proper 
military salute, shouted: ‘Howdy, Captain; how are 
all the folks ? ’ Another brilliant actor was carrying 
more than he could handle. I sent him home and 
took a bottle away from him. He argued with me, 
telling me that I had to pay him for it and also warn- 
ing me not to drink. He then started home, but 
managed to wander back into town again. Men, I 
could tell you more but it is foolish. I expected 
more of you.” 

The men and even the captain laughed at the 
whole affair. It was funny but silly. Many of the 
guilty ones felt they were getting more than a square 
deal. They made resolutions to ‘ do better. Some 


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Training Behind the Front 193 

kept them; others did not as long as their money 
lasted. 

For the next few days the men were busy train- 
ing. The end of the day would generally find them 
too tired to do much other than write a letter and 
go to bed. 

A week or so after the battle of Cognac and 
the capture of ‘‘Vin Blanc,’’ the men came in after 
a strenuous drill. The mail orderly stood in the 
door of the orderly room, holding a hunch of letters 
in his hands, a smile on his face. 

The men knew that it was to he their first mail 
call in France. It mattered not to them that they 
were in formation; they forgot that part of it and 
stampeded the corporal. 

The lucky boys danced, each man ran to a place 
of solitude — some to their bunks, others to a tree 
or down to the bridge. 

‘‘Gee, I got eight letters! How many did you 
get. Shorty?” asked Carl. 

“A big bunch,” was the reply. 

“The pals” found each other and hiked down 
the path, and located themselves on an old log by 
the side of the swimming hole. 

“I am sure lucky and happy. Two letters from 
Molly and the same from maw,” said Fred. 

“I cannot say as much, but the folks haven’t for- 
gotten me.” 

“I reckon, Christy, you won’t mind listening to 
me ready Molly’s letter to you. She has received 
that safe-arrival card.” 

My Dear Fred: 

Your dear letters received. The safe-arrival card 
made me especially happy. I read your letters every 
day and sometimes oftener. The word “safe” on 
that card keeps my days brighter. 


Yank — The Crusader 




The newspapers all seem to think the war will 
soon be over. I do hope so. The sooner, the hap- 
pier I will be. 

I am trying to be brave, but I fear I am failing — 
failing miserably — because I really want the war to 
end before you get into it. 

If it doesnT end and you get into it, I am content 
to let the Lord’s will be done. 

No one can ever take your place in my heart. No, 
never. 

Should you be called into the battle soon, re- 
member in case you don’t come back I will labor for 
the Lord so that we will meet in Heaven. 

When I kissed you goodbye, it was only goodbye 
until we meet again. 

Your little Irish sweetheart, 

Molly. 

P. S. — Get a Hun for me. 

‘‘Fred, that is a letter to be proud of. It is a 
masterpiece. ’ ’ 

“Christy, I don’t reckon you’ll mind being cor- 
rected. Not the letter, but the girl who wrote it.” 

“You are right again. She is a mighty good 
girl. ’ ’ 

“I allow that she is plumb too good for me, but 
I ain’t tryin’ hard to convince her o’ that,” smiled 
Fred. 

“Fred, there are two who don’t think so. She is 
one and I the other.” 

“Christy, I have been wonderin’ why your girl 
didn’t write?” inquired Fred. 

“Fred, I haven’t a girl. I just thought she loved 
me. She was honest, however, and told me that she 
only considered herself a good friend of mine. Even 
so, I would like to hear if she is well.” Christy’s 
voice broke as he said it and for a second his eyes 


Training Behind the Front 195 

filled up when the cowboy said: ‘‘That kid brother 
of naine sends you his best wishes and wants you 
to visit us when we return.’^ 

“Ha, ha, someone remembers me. Indeed I will 
visit you. Say, I am writing him a letter today, 
said Christy. 

The big cowboy smiled. “DonT swap me for 
him. I have been worrying that he would be cuttin’ 
me out of Molly or tell her how little I am naturally 
worth.’’ 

“Mother certainly is a jewel. Listen to what 
she has to say: 

To My Dear Son Christy: 

Your postal card heralding the good news of 
your arrival was in this morning’s mail. 

We also received the letter you sent before you 
embarked. Dear boy, it has been a source of added 
comfort to your father and me. 

Your companionship is missed by us both. We 
sincerely desire that it may be as sweet and rich 
when you return as it was before you left. Keep 
close to God and it will. 

We are delighted to know that you have a chum 
with such manly attributes. He will no doubt be 
staunch and true. Make yourself worthy of Fred’s 
company and when you and he return the doors of 
our home are open wide to you. 

Dad and I caution you to care for your health. 
We join in sending you our love and best wishes. 

Your mother, 

Minnie Strong. 

No comment was made on the letter. Fred had 
just finished reading his letters when they heard the 
bugle play, “Soupy, soupy, soupy, without a single 
bean.” More from force of habit than from any- 


196 


Yank — The Crusader 


thing else, the men jumped to their feet and ran for 
their place in the mess line. 

^‘Everybody is smiling/’ 

After a period of snappy drill that afternoon 
and the last meal of the day finished, the men hur- 
ried to find enough candle light to answer their 
letters. 

reckon, Christy, you’re happy not to he cen- 
soring these letters,” said Fred. 

Twenty or more men found room to write on the 
kitchen table, on boxes, on boilers or anything that 
offered a smooth surface. These conditions being 
more or less rustic, the men didn’t write long drawn- 
out letters. 

One by one they finished their letters. Some went 
to bed while others remained to discuss the current 
events of the day. 

“How is the old meat burner?” asked Christy. 

“Fairly well, pal, and my Avis says, I’m the 
guy for her. ’ ’ 

“Then you are in Jake.” 

Said Bert: “I am, kid! I’m K. 0. with the board. 
Avis still loves me.” 

“What’s the latest dope, Bert?” asked Christy. 

“Say, Christy, do you think I am a commanding 
general or an information bureau?” 

“Everybody who hears a rumor comes to tell 
you about it in the hope of getting something to 
eat, ’ ’ said Christy. 

“You hit it on the head. I’ll tell you a good 
one on old Shorty. He was eating his supper and 
set it down on the ground to come over to the kitchen 
to get some ‘ seconds, ’ and a goose ate his meal. Ha, 
ha. He came over and wanted more. Boy! the bawl- 
ing out I gave him. I felt sony for him as I saw 
him take it to heart. It hit him right between the 
eyes!” 


Training Behind the Front 197 

‘‘You didn’t refuse Mm*?” 

“Eefuse him? I’ll say not. He came in and gave 
me a lift with the work and I filled him full.” 

“Since coming to France I notice you are un- 
usually popular.” 

“That ain’t all, brother. I am making these 
birds work for what they eat,” said the fighting 
cook. 

Bert was orating on how “some boob burned the 
water” when “taps” sounded. He hollered to the 
bugler: “Hang that horn up in a tree and let the 
wind blow it.” 

Shorty and Carl and “the pals” came together 
as they were going to bed. Shorty and Carl told 
their experience in a French barber shop. 

‘ ‘ That barber that shaved Carl acted as if he was 
shell-shocked.” 

Carl made a face that would scare the ordinary 
individual, as he said: “That maniac was trying to 
teach me the whole French language while he was 
working on me. He gave me a shower bath and 
crawled my frame and barely missed cutting my ears 
off with his gesticulations, and for emphasis he 
planted his fist on my nose.” 

Shorty laughed and said: “I ain’t kiddin’, old 
Carl acted as though he was struck by a shell. ’ ’ 

“I noticed. Shorty, you didn’t let Frenchie shave 
you. ’ ’ 

The next morning the captain announced the 
company would roll their packs and march to the 
train. No one knew where they were going and all 
sorts of speculations were afloat. 

Christy said to his pal : ‘ ‘ Fred, it is evident that 
we are getting closer to the danger zone. It won’t 
be long until we are in it. We stick together in all 
things.” 


198 


Yank — The Crusader 


‘^You know me, kid. You said it the other night. 
^It can^t be otherwise.’ ” 

‘^Fred, my only ambition is to win the American 
Distinguished Service Cross,” said Christy. 

‘ ‘ Them ’s exactly my sentiments. I would rather 
have one of them than any hardware on my shoul- 
ders,” said Fred. 

^‘Fred, it’s over the top together,” exclaimed 
Christy as ‘‘the pals” shook hands. 

“Did you hear my knuckles crack?” asked 
Christy. 

“Well, pard, I don’t mean to hurt you much,” 
laughed Fred. 

Their bond of friendship sealed by this vow, they 
listened to the many comments that were buzzing 
around them. 

They were sent to an army corps center, where 
they were given new equipment and then sent to a 
machine-gun school, where they received their final 
training before being sent to the front. 

The training the men received while in France, 
up to the time they left the machine gun school, was 
much the same as they had received in the States. 
Of course they had learned to travel in box cars, 
sleep in barns, and wade through the everlasting 
mud of France. 

School finished, the men started their trip toward 
the front. It was a memorable day in the lives of 
the men when Jim, the company clerk, came run- 
ning out to where the boys were taking apart a ma- 
chine gun, and told them: “The motorcycle orderly 
brought orders for us to pack up and leave for the 
front.” The news spread like wildfire. 

“That sure sounds a heap like something doing. 
I joined the army to fight,” said Fred. 

‘ ‘ The sooner we get there the quicker it is over. ’ ’ 


Training Behind the Front 199 

‘‘Gee, 1^11 have to catch a bunch of Huns in order 
to keep my word,’^ said Shorty. 

“Everyone I knew told me to get a German for 
them,’’ said Christy. 

“Christy, we are in for another box car ride,” 
said Carl. 

‘ ‘ I can stand anything just to get a crack at the 
Kaiser,” emphasized Christy. 

“I’d rather get him than anyone I know,” re- 
turned Carl. 

Every now and then one would either have extra 
good ears or imagination and they would have the 
men hearing a cannon shot. They were passing 
through a country that had not been spared the war 
god’s grim ravishing. The cannon’s roar was now 
and then raising enough fuss to be heard. Each hour 
the sound became plainer and more threatening. 

Shorty, in a fit of excitement, pointed in the air. 
“See those aeroplanes! They are fighting. Gee! See 
that one tumbling! I wonder if it is an American. 
Gosh! there goes another. Say, that is exciting.” 

The men watched the event, enjoyed it and only 
feared that it was an American plane that was 
downed. They were pleased when they ended their 
trip and heard that the fight in the air was won by 
an American. 

It was just twilight. The S. 0. S. was busy send- 
ing supplies to the front. Trucks and ambulances 
were returning from the front with wounded. 

“Christy, I am tired of listening to those guns,” 
said Fred. 

“I hope to get used to it mighty soon.” 

“I reckon things must have been lively around 
here. I can’t help feeling sorry for the folks. Not 
a fence standing, all their cow and horse sheds ripped 
to splinters; the walls of their homes look like 
chicken wire,” said the cowboy. 


200 


Yank — The Crusader 


^^Yes, and Fred, the thing that increases my ad- 
miration for the French people is the way they hold 
true to their home in spite of the foe, ’ ’ said Christy. 

The next day they marched, and marched, and 
slept in mud no less than three inches deep. 

Mud bespattered but ready, the men awakened. 
They ate a rather cold portion of food, which was 
not always the case. There was some such com- 
plaining as this: 

‘‘Guys, I am going to get the Kaiser and torture 
him to death for getting me into such a mess as 
this,’’ said Shorty. 

“I am going to do my best to make this a short 
business. Clean sheets beat mud and wet blankets, ’ ’ 
added another. 

“And when we get the Hun we will cage him 
and send him to the zoo,” said another. 

It was just 2 o’clock in the afternoon when the 
captain halted the company and commanded them 
to put their gas masks in the alert position. The 
men felt a peculiar sensation grasp them. 

“Fred, do you notice many of the boys who used 
to cuss are exchanging it for slang?” said Christy. 

“I allow they are compromisin’ with God.” 

The men were within range of the enemy’s guns. 
Now and then a shrapnel shell would burst around 
them. They were given a rest and under cover of 
darkness marched into the second line trenches. 

“Christy, there isn’t much trench here,” said 
Carl. 

“I reckon we are too busy chasin’ the Hun to stop 
and dig any ditches,” put in the big cowboy. 


CHAPTER XVin 

THE RELIGION OP THE FRONT 

Many men marched into battle with the idea of 
never coming back. Many others marched into the 
battle with that hope, that desire, of again seeing 
the Statue of Liberty, once more to stroll down 
Broadway, and then return to their occupations. 

Every man knew that some would come back 
and others wouldnT. Even though men had differ- 
ent ideas about coming back, they were alike in tak- 
ing a long look ahead. 

A long look ahead concerning their relationship 
with their God. Each man answered that question 
for himself and in his own way. Some said very 
little about it to their friends; others lived out and 
out for the teachings of Jesus Christ; still others 
argued that they didnT believe in any of that re- 
ligious dope ; but thank God only a few. Even most 
of them found their God before it was too late. 

Many claim to have offered their first prayer be- 
fore they went on the battlefield or in some tight 
place. Plenty of others tell that they prayed for 
the first time in many a day. 

The religion of the front is big and magnificent. 
The best part of it is that it contains sermons in real 
practice. All sham and hypocrisy is cast aside. A 
man is a man, no more or less. If he has any worth 
in him his friends will find it out. 

Shorty Duncan, old rounder that he was, after 
several unsuccessful attempts to live a Christian life, 
still desired to do so. The lives of Fred, Carl and 
Christy made him feel that way. He felt that they 


202 


Yank — The Crusader 


had a big something that he did not possess, and 
a big something that he really ought to have. 

The first night on the front., seven or eight fel- 
lows gathered to talk things over. The subject of 
interest simmered down to the one important thing. 

Shorty sought that something when he said: 
‘‘Youse guys have been talking about Jesus Christ. 
You have been living the way you talk. I Ve started 
a couple of times, but you see I bain T done much of 
that kind of living.’’ 

^ ‘ Shorty, old boy, you are doing all right. When 
you feel that you are not living up, just ask the Big 
Partner to help you,” suggested Christy. 

‘‘Well, I just want to ask you one question.” 

“What is it. Shorty? I’ll do my best to an- 
swer it.” 

“Well, just suppose you were walking through 
the jungles of Africa. Suppose you had a Bible in 
one hand and a club in the other. Suppose a big 
lion springs out at you, Which would you use, the 
Bible or the club ? ’ ’ asked Shorty in all seriousness. 

For a moment Christy was stumped for a reply. 
‘ ‘ Shorty, if I had used the Bible when I should, then 
I would not need to worry about that hand, and as 
far as the club hand is concerned, I am telling you 
that my feet would carry me to a safer zone in a 
mighty short time.” 

The boys all laughed at the well-put answer. 
Shorty felt a sigh of relief as he said: “Guys, I 
ain’t goin to let that Bible hand bother me when I 
am fighting the Hun.” 

“I reckon. Shorty, I haven’t been much of a saint 
myself, but I feel a heap better since I started to 
agree with the Master, ’ ’ argued the cowboy. 

“It changed me from a tramp to the fair likeness 
of a man,” added Carl. 


203 


The Religion of the Front 

‘‘Here is a little testament I have been carrying 
for someone, said Christy. 

“Thanks, kid, and 1^11 sure use this one.’^ 

Zip! Siz! went a volley of fire over the men^s 
heads. 

“Gee! I ain’t crazy about meetin’ none of them 
imps. ’ ’ 

The men all laughed at each other because of 
the peculiar movements they made as the bold mis- 
siles visited their territory. 

The boys accustomed themselves to the roar of 
the beastly guns and the shrapnel bursting around 
them. They kidded one another about how well they 
were learning to dodge bullets or how they liked 
Jerry to shave them. 

The men learned to sing to the tune of the whiz- 
zing bullets; most of their music came under the 
heading of quick time. 

“I reckon it won’t be long and we’ll be getting 
our share of this excitement.” 

‘ ‘ I guess you ’re right, Fred. I feel excited now, ’ ’ 
said one. 

“My old bones kinda tell me we are in for some 
live times,” smiled Fred. 

It was a cold night. Fred had just finished tak- 
ing a walk to keep warm. This time he was away 
from the crowd a little longer than usual. When he 
returned it was impossible for him to conceal his 
anger. 

“What is the matter, Fred, are you worried 
over something?” asked Christy. 

“Worried? I should say not. I am sore. I allow 
that I have a right to be,” said the cowboy, gritting 
his teeth as he spoke. 

“What’s the trouble?” asked one of the men. 


204 


Yank — The Crusader 


‘^Trouble enough. Fellows, I don’t believe in 
talking, but that wretched Eent would make a saint 
cuss.” 

^‘We agree,” said one and then another. 

‘^What has he done?” asked another. 

Fellows, I allow that you won’t tell every one 
in the A. E. F.. I just have to tell some one or I’ll 
explode.” 

‘‘Mum is the word,” agreed the bunch. 

“Dad blamed if I can hold it any longer. Well, 
as I walked over in that direction I saw a fellow 
bending over someone. Thought maybe I could be 
a bit of help in case the fellow was injured or sick, 
so I walked over to the spot. My old blood boiled 
when I saw Eent relieving that half-dead German 
kid of his coat. I asked Eent what he was doing 
and he told me that he was cold and thought he 
would take the kid’s overcoat. Gee! Fellows, I 
never heard of such selfish cowardice before. 

“The low-down cur deserves a lynching,” said 
one. 

“I hate selfishness; that is the worst I ever heard 
of,” said Carl. 

“Fellows, I looked into the face of that dying 
kid. I knew he was a Genrtan, but that didn’t make 
no difference to me. I felt his hands and they were 
cold. Then Eent said : ‘ He is only a Hun. ’ I allow 
that I knocked that selfish brute into an unexpected 
sleep.” 

“Served him right.”' 

“Ain’t that cowardly, to take a coat off a de- 
fenseless sick kid?” said Shorty, clenching his fist 
ready to give Eent a good whipping. 

“Where is your overcoat?” asked Christy. 

Fred admitted: “I allowed that it might help 
the kid more’n it would mo.” 


205 


The Religion of the Front 

The men felt the bigness of the cowboy ^s heart 
and began asking themselves conld they have done 
so much for the German boy. 

‘‘What are we going to do to Rent?” asked 
Shorty. 

The men argued pro and con for a few minutes 
when they walked over to where Rent lay. The selfish 
coward was just coming to when the men surrounded 
him, blindfolded him and gave him to understand 
that his punishment was to be a night in no-man is- 
land, tied to a post. The men were amused at Rentes 
sad demonstration of bravery. 

“You coward! You selfish cur! What have you 
to say for yourself?” demanded Sheldon. 

“I, I, I, don’t kn-know. Wh-what have I-I 
d-done?” 

“I reckon you know what you did to that kid, 
you coward.” 

“Guy, I ain’t kiddin’. You better make peace 
with God before we make pieces of you,” advised 
Shorty. 

“Wh-why, this is some joke,” pussyfooted Rent. 

The men led the prisoner what seemed a long 
distance to him. They tied him to a badly splintered 
tree with enough rope to hold up Brooklyn bridge. 
They returned to the sick and wounded boy and 
added Rent’s covers to his fox-hole. 

The men retired and snatched a little sleep. That 
cold, cold night Rent pulled and tugged at those 
ropes in a fruitless attempt to free himself. Early 
the next morning, after the guns opened fire in dead 
earnest, Fred untied the knots and freed an alto- 
gether different Rent. 

He was shaking like a leaf. That brazen, selfish 
spirit had been whipped. For the time being he 
did not have anything to replace the miserable evil. 


206 


Yank — The Crusader 


He did find courage to tell Fred: am ashamed; 

I’ll try and do better.” 

The cowboy felt that he had done a big thing for 
Rent. He called the men together and told them 
in his warm-hearted fashion: ‘‘I am for giving Rent 
a chance to make good.” 

^‘We can do no less,” said Carl. 

The men talked it over and decided to forget the 
past and let the future bear the fruits of their judg- 
ment. 

Fred turned his attention to the wounded young 
Fritzie. The fair-haired youth knowingly looked 
into Fred’s tanned face and said: ‘Hch danke sie,” 
which means “I thank you.” 

It is true that the terrible habits of selfishness 
and cowardice had such a tremendous hold on Rent 
that it was an everlasting and continued fight for 
him to overcome them. In spite of all he could do, 
the dreaded evils would appear in his actions. The 
men overlooked much because they realized he was 
making a real fight. The men of the A. E. F. de- 
tested the nasty habits of selfishness and cowardice. 

It didn’t take the men long to adapt themselves 
to the conditions at the front. It was common to 
hear some one whistle or sing some of the songs they 
learned back in the training camp. 

Now and then one of the men would joke about 
Jerry’s effort to hit them. Joking, singing and 
whistling can be counted as a valuable part of the 
religion of the front. 

Sergeant Sheldon came from the company orderly 
room with a bit of news : ‘ ‘ The first sergeant told me 
that we will get into the real fighting tomorrow.” 

‘‘My old heart feels for the infantry men,” said 
Christy. 

“You bet, they are the guys that go over the top, 
and deserve the credit,” added Shorty. 


207 


The Religion of the Front 

The company runner came up to Sheldon with 
an order from Major Smith. ‘^Sergeant Sheldon 
will report to Battalion Headquarters for the pur- 
pose of receiving special instruction.^^ 

All the men in Fredas company were eager for 
his promotion. They thought that was why he was 
called away at that time. 

‘‘Gee, guys, I hope we donT lose Fred,^^ re- 
marked Shorty. 

Christy felt concerned for fear he would lose 
Fredas companionship. 

Fred walked into the dugout that was used for 
battalion headquarters. The major was waiting for 
him. The cowboy-sergeant saluted his superior of- 
ficer with so much snap that it increased an already 
great admiration for the young westerner. “Sir! 
Sergeant Sheldon reports to Major Smith as com- 
manded by order. 

“Sergeant Sheldon, your services stand out as 
the best in the battalion. You are the one man I 
am willing to trust with dangerous work,’^ said the 
major. 

‘ ‘ Sir, I am willing to do anything. I have a pal ; 
he and I planned to do this kind of work together. 
Fred forgot his military bearing for the moment; 
he fidgeted with his helmet straps; he stood on one 
foot and then the other, embraced in deep thought, 
fearing that the major would think he was afraid 
to go alone. 

“Sergeant, you may pick out seven men. Send 
me their names and numbers. I will send you more 
definite instructions later. In the meantime, take 
this stationery and have the men send a letter home, 
which will be mailed in case they don’t come back.” 

“All right, sir.” Then Fred saluted, adding a 
snappy about-face and marched out of the office. 


208 


Yank — The Crusader 


^‘Guys, I have a hunch something is going to 
happen. ^ ^ 

‘ ‘ Shorty, something is always happening up 
here,’^ said Carl. 

^^Geel here comes Fred.’^ 

‘‘What is the news?^’ 

“Fellows, the major wants me to take a detail 
out into no-man ’s-land to do some dangerous work. 
I am giving you men first chance to join me.^^ 

They all volunteered, so Fred was not troubled 
with recruiting for this job. One of the volunteers 
said: “I would rather follow Fred into hell-fire 
than some of these birds down a country road.’^ 

“Men, I reckon you might want to write a letter 
home. In case we get bumped off the major prom- 
ised to mail them.’^ 

Christy and Fred went to their fox-hole and of- 
fered a prayer. They prayed for strength and cour- 
age to carry on their task in a creditable and honor- 
able fashion. 

When they had finished their prayer, Christy said 
to his pal: “There is one verse that I like to think 
of as a soldiers ’ verse. It shows the wonderful faith 
of David, the warrior, when he said: ‘Yea, though I 
walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I 
will fear no evil for thou art with me. Thy rod and 
thy staff they comfort me.’ ” 

The big cowboy smiled and said: “Christy, I 
reckon that is the only way a Christian could feel. ’ ’ 

“Eight you are.” 

The men sat down and wrote their letters, using 
helmets, gas mask bags or a part of a blown-up cart 
to write on. 

Funny as it may seem, the mother instinct seemed 
to be irritated as the boys planned the expedition. 
Christy found out that at that hour his mother went 
into her bedroom to pray. 


209 


The Religion of the Front 

Christy’s letter to his id other: 

Dear Mother: 

These days are filled with hardships, hut the ex- 
citement makes us forget that. 

Mother, dear, the hardest trial of all is to watch 
the sulfering of others. 

The hour is near when my manhood is to he 
tested. My memory of you will help me. 

I owe my country my all. I am willing to pay 
in full. I enter into this fight with the hope of re- 
turning to you. Of course duty is first, no matter 
what the danger may be. 

Should the war god fail to demand of me my life 
I will continue to be for anything that will make 
America a better country. 

Should this letter reach you, it only means that 
we will meet each other up there. 

Your loving son, 
Christy. 

Christy started to fold his letter and put it into 
an envelope, when he looked into Fred’s face and 
found there an expression that caused him to unfold 
it and say: ^‘Fred, when you finish yours, read 
this. ’ ’ 

‘‘I reckon you’ll not have to ask me twice.” 

A few minutes later Fred gathered the letters 
and delivered them to the major. He returned from 
his final conference. His eyes sparkled with that 
inherent desire to be a hero, a real hero. 

Bravery is the finest quality in a man’s religion. 
The only fear most men of the front had was they 
feared they might fear. The realness of a man’s 
religion can be judged by his deeds of bravery. 

The story of Bent’s selfishness and cowardice is 
brought out to show how the men of the A. E. F. 
hated such low-lived habits. On the other hand, 


210 


Yank — The Crusader 


how they loved and admired unselfishness and 
bravery. 

Many and many a man has shared his blanket 
with his buddy on the coldest night. Many the cigar- 
ette has had a dozen puffers. Many an individual 
food ration was split four ways and even more. 

Bravery is the first in the list of essentials that 
backs the religion of real men, the kind who fought 
and won. Love is next and close akin to bravery. 
Love, not that weakling, foolish, namby — pamby 
sort, but that love of right, that love of freedom, 
that love of home, that strong, virile love shown in 
the deeds of mercy performed by some of the ruf- 
fians on the battlefield. 

The beauty of that practical religion is that it 
gave to its men the heart to laugh, to joke, to sing 
in spite of the almost unbearable conditions. It 
gave to its men the unselfish thought of others. It 
gave to them a wholesome conception of the real 
manhood of the Christ. 


CHAPTER XIX 

ROUTING THE HUN — AND FRED’S DESTINY 

The Argonne sector was the scene of many heroic 
and unselfish deeds; like the whole western front, it 
is honeycombed with shell holes. Many splendid 
photographs have told the story of destruction. The 
conversation of the men will doubtless bring out 
human touches that the camera cannot snap. 

The time was fast approaching when Fredas de- 
tail was to start. 

Said Shorty: ‘‘Guys, I kinda have a funny feel- 
ing. I am Tessing up. Gee! hut it will he exciting. 

The fellows all laughed at Shorty ^s attempt to 
be honest and brave at the same time. 

Darkness hid the enemy in its shadows, so Fred 
and his detail ventured forth on their daring mission. 
The men were unusually cautious that first night. 
They accomplished their work then returned to 
headquarters and reported. 

The next day the noise was terrible — more ter- 
rible than any thunderstorm ; yes, more terrible than 
any conception of the human mind. Fred’s faithful 
crew worked all the night before and fought all that 
day. They couldn’t hear one another talk; the con- 
tinuous roar of the cannon drowned their voices. 

In the middle of the afternoon it quieted down 
and many of Fred’s friends crowded around him as 
he and his companions told of their expedition. 

Shorty was first to have his say: “Guys, I ain’t 
kiddin’ youse; I didn’t need a shave-tail to tell me 
to stand still when Jerry sent up them star shells. 
The blame things scared me stiff.” 


212 


Yank — The Crusader 


‘‘Goodnight I I stumbled on top of a dead Ger- 
man and took his iron cross from him. It will make 
a good watch fob,’’ said Carl. 

Christy added: “We managed to get within ten 
yards of Fritzie’s lines without being discovered.” 

“Yes, and I’ll bet they wouldn’t have talked so 
much if they knew where we were,” said Carl. 

‘ ‘ They are confused, ruffled and worried over our 
last advances. They never intended to retreat; from 
their* line of lingo it is plain to see that the Yanks 
are too much for them,” said Christy. 

“I reckon Shorty will have a-plenty of souvenirs. 
I allow he has more than he can carry.” 

“Youse guys can laugh,” said Shorty, as he 
pulled the head of a dead Hun from his bag. ‘ ‘ Gee I 
that will make a fine inkstand for a lawyer friend 
of mine.” 

The company clerk ran over to the boys in a high 
fit of excitement when he broke the news of the com- 
pany ’s first casualty. “Corporal Com has been 
killed and three more of the boys severely wounded. ’ ’ 

A spell of gloom came over the men as they list- 
ened to the news. They thought that they had hard- 
ened themselves to the fate of war, but it was 
different when fatality entered the ranks of their 
own company. 

The big-hearted cowboy was touched. “I reckon 
Corporal Com did well. I always allowed he meant 
well.” 

“Boys, it is getting closer home,” said Christy. 

‘ ‘ Guys, I know his wife and kid. I ain ’t no one 
to care for so I am going to give them a helping 
hand,” promised Shorty. 

The men snatched a bit of sleep whenever they 
could. The night was spent in getting into position, 
moving the wounded and bringing up reinforce- 


213 


Routing the Hun — And Fred*s Destiny 

ments. They found more time to sleep in the day 
time than at night. 

The day Fred pictured in that sky mirror was 
at hand. Fred was given command of a machine 
gun that wrought havoc to a German counter-attack. 
It was all over when Fred said: never allowed 

that God made such good runners. Jerry leads the 
world in passing machine gun bullets.^’ 

Shorty was perspiring as he carried ammunition 
to the gun. ‘‘ Youse guys shoot, just to see me work,’’ 
snapped Shorty, but withal his grumbling there 
never was one more willing than he. 

Cook Smith and his detail came up with several 
boilers of hot stuff. The food was well cooked, such 
as it was, and the cook fed each man his full share. 

After dinner Shorty took a drink from his can- 
teen but there remained only the dregs, which was 
a pile of dirty sand. The hardest of all trials at the 
front, agree most of the Yanks, was the lack of an 
ample supply of anywhere near decent water. 

Sergeant Sheldon and his detail were ordered on 
another expedition into no-man ’s-land. They were 
less cautious this time. 

The early part of the night was well lighted by 
the moon, but later clouds gathered and the fields 
were closeted in a dead, drear darkness. 

The men were muddy and wet from head to foot. 
Their poor raincoats were of little value. Uncer- 
tainty preceded each step; it was a question whether 
they would stumble over the dead or wounded, or 
step into a shell hole. Perchance they might bump 
into some of the enemy. However, the last was least 
likely as Jerry was busy figuring out the safest way 
home. 

The men had to keep close together or they would 
lose each other. Confidently and boldly the men car- 
ried on. It was no fault of theirs that when the 


214 


Yank — The Crusader 


early morning light broke through, they found them- 
selves past their objective, away from any assist- 
ance. The rainy weather conditions fooled them. 

The men had fought hard and well the day before 
and battled the elements that stormy night, in quest 
of military information. They were tired; their old 
bones ached, their muscles cried for rest and relaxa- 
tion, their stomachs begged for nourishment. It 
would have been easy for them to surrender, but 
Yanks’ fighting spirit would not let them give up. 

The gray of the early morning was turning to a 
brighter hue, when the enemy discovered them. 

Jerry, of four years’ war experience, had learned 
many things about the game, that gave him an ad- 
vantage over Yank of only a few days’ actual war 
life. Nevertheless, the Huns had been taught to re- 
spect the prowess of Yank, therefore they sent thirty 
men to capture the eight American Crusaders. 

A miracle seemed to transform the tired men 
when they realized their position. They were no 
longer worn out, but abnormally strong and ready for 
a rough encounter. 

The zero hour was rapidly approaching. The 
American artillery was to open a barrage only a 
few yards over Sheldon’s head. Jerry was closing 
in on Fred. The fight started when Shorty hollered : 
‘ ‘ Guys, we are in for a fight to the finish. ’ ’ 

The zero hour came when Jerry was closing in 
and the artillery barrage cut them from their com- 
mand. It was a clear case of eight Yanks against 
thirty Huns. 

Fred’s men were surrounded. Fritz fired the first 
gun. It wounded Christy but not enough to put him 
out of commission. 

Sheldon hollered some orders but no one heard 
him. Instinct taught the men to follow Fred, who 
led them to an old, blown-up dugout. Boche, with 


215 


Routing the Hun — And Fred's Destiny 

his bayonet, had an advantage over the machine gun- 
ners in close-up fighting, who were armed with re- 
volvers. 

Jerry was puzzled. He was looking behind al- 
most as much as in front. They seemed to fear more 
Yanks were near. Evidently they had been fooled 
before. 

Bang! and the first Hun was bumped off. Bang! 
and another. They were still closing in on the men 
when the artillery dropped a shell in the bunch of 
Germans to the south of the dugout, which killed and 
wounded seven more. Now Fred had only three 
sides to watch. 

Fred realized that a hand-to-hand encounter 
would prove fatal. One avenue of chance was still 
open to him; to beat a hasty retreat to the south. 
Four Yanks did this and thus attracted the enemy ^s 
attention from the dugout when tenths of seconds 
meant life or death. 

Two of the retreating Yanks were killed but 
Jerry suffered ten more. The odds were fifteen to 
six. After several attempts, Fritzie managed to 
close in on the four Yanks in the dugout. 

Christy was cornered and bleeding from the arm. 
He fought hard but now his revolver was empty and 
his body groggy from several other blows. He had 
reached the stage where death would be the easiest 
way but he remembered his promise to his mother. 

Shorty Duncan and Carl Stewart fought the Hun 
with all their might. Fred jumped out of the hole, 
not from fright, but instinctively grasped an oppor- 
tunity to put Jerry at a disadvantage. While Fred 
was leaping Jerry misjudged a bayonet lunge and 
only ripped Sheldon’s trousers from hip to knee. 

Christy’s assailants stood mummified when the 
cowboy gave them one of his defiant glances. The 
big, true-hearted cowboy knew it would be suicide 


216 


Yank — The Crusader 


to jump back into the pit. He knew if he did not 
do so his pal would be among those ‘‘out west.’^ 

The fight within Fred was worse and harder than 
the one with Jerry. The fight within was so terrible 
because, as things stood, he had a mighty good 
chance to come out of the scrap untouched. 

Just then he heard Shorty call: “Fred,” “Fred,” 
as the little fellow was keeling over and bleeding 
from the heart. 

Fredas rage was warmed into rampant fury. One 
of his pals had just been killed by the bloody foe. 
His own partner was bleeding and helpless. At that 
moment the fight within Fred was much worse than 
the fight with Jerry. At least it was a more severe 
test of his manly qualities. The law of self-preser- 
vation is the first and most natural of all. 

Just at that all-important moment Fred’s imag- 
ination was unusually vivid. The sweetest of all 
pictures was painted on his mind. He saw Molly 
and himself at the altar. He saw them spending a 
beautiful sunshiny afternoon in the environs of 
Molly’s favorite spot. Another picture flashed to his 
mind, more tempting than the first. It showed him 
teaching his own son to ride while both grandmoth- 
ers applauded and Molly watched every move with 
a mother’s care. 

In spite of the tremendously inspiring and en- 
ticing temptation, Fred determined to save his com- 
panion’s life at any cost. The fight within lasted 
about a tenth of a second and was won in less than 
half that time. 

The odds were still in Jerry’s favor, seven to 
three. Carl was knocked unconscious by the butt 
of a German rifle. Christy was only semi-conscious 
as Jerry was about to end his existence. Two of the 
four men who retreated shammed death. Their trick 
fooled Jerry. They equipped themselves with the 


217 


Routing the Hun — And Fred's Destiny 

rifles of the dead Germans and baffled the enemy by 
making a neat cleaning and thus evening things up. 

The cowboy made a leap upon Christy ^s torturers. 
Fred disposed of the two barbarians. The leader of 
Jerry’s detachment slipped his bayonet under Fred 
and then was brazen enough to throw up his hands 
and shout ‘ ‘ Kamerad. ’ ’ The slaughter was all over, 
because the Yanks came after information. They 
knew the captives were in possession of the same. 

The prisoners held their hands overhead while 
they were searched and relieved of weapons. One 
Yank guarded the Huns while the other gave first 
aid to the wounded. 

The infantry, commonly termed doughboys, had 
advanced behind the artillery barrage. They ar- 
rived too late to assist in the little fight. However, 
they made a fine job of routing the Hun. 

After turning over the prisoners, the men re- 
turned to their companies. Their comrades received, 
with mingled emotions of sorrow and pride, the fate 
of their highly respected heroes. Other casualties 
had entered upon the companies’ roster. That night 
the captain had to make a request for twenty-nine 
replacements in order to bring his company up to 
fighting strength. 

Ketuming to the scene of battle: It was several 
minutes before Christy realized that our man of 
destiny, the cowboy, lay before him breathing his 
last. Christy was too weak to even attempt to bend 
over his friend, so he crawled and squirmed along 
the ground until finally he managed to get close to 
him. “Fred, can I do anything for you?” he 
asked in a quivering voice. Fred smiled and moaned 
as he motioned him to come closer. A last effort 
gave him enough strength to rise up in a sort of 
fashion and kiss Christy, saying in a panting breath, 
“Molly” A second time he kissed his pal and said. 


218 


Yank — The Crusader 


“Mother!^’ in a parting breath. He went west 
grasping Christy by the hand as if to say: ‘‘Old 
boy, I reckon we ^11 meet in the happy hunting 
grounds. ’ ^ 

“The Eancher Boy — A Man of Destiny.^’ He 
reached his destination! — the Promised Land — the 
place where all thoughtful men are aiming to go. 

The stretcher bearers found Christy and Carl 
some time that same afternoon. They were hurried 
back to an overcrowded field hospital, where they 
received hasty medical attention. Later they were 
sent to a base hospital. 

One long day passed before they pulled into the 
hospital center. The train was unloaded and for- 
tunately the boys were assigned to the same ward. 

The day nurse followed Ihe doctor ^s instructions. 
She washed and dressed the wounds. Under the in- 
fluence of unconsciousness, Christy ^s arm was oper- 
acted upon. She came to bed seven. She stood 
in front of the bed and gazed in fearful amazement. 
She instinctively whispered, “Carl! Carl!^^ No re- 
ply; no sign of response greeted her. His head was 
^andaged so that the face underneath could not be 
seen. 

The nurse ran back to her desk, then returned 
to the bed. She looked on his “dog tag’’ and found 
his name to be Carl Stewart. She attended to her 
many duties with unusual dispatch and then re- 
turned to bed seven. 

The next day, after an uneasy and short rest, 
she was assured by the scar on Carl’s chin that he 
was truly her brother. She watched him morning, 
noon and night, always anxious about his condition. 

Carl improved rapidly, but to her it seemed a 
slow process. She wanted to tell him that she was 
his sister, but she feared it would be dangerous to 


219 


Routing the Hun — And Fredas Destiny 

startle him. It was hard to keep the good news 
from him. 

One fine afternoon, Carl awakened from his slum- 
ber just as the nurse happened into the ward. 
She walked over to his bedside and sweetly inquired, 
‘‘May I do something for you, Carl?” 

He answered: “I realize I am not normal. I 
know that I am a bit dazed, but listen, you resemble 
my sister before — before we parted.” 

The nurse was alarmed; she was almost afraid 
and at the same time felt complimented and proud 
to know that he still cared for his sister. Again 
she asked: “Carl, may I do something for you?” 

“Gee Sis used to call me Carl in the same sort 
of way. I just want you to talk to me, that is all. 
You remind me of my sister — the best girl in the 
world. Like you, she is a Red Cross nurse some- 
where-in-France. ” Semi-conscious as Carl was, he 
seemed to enjoy talking to ihe nurse about the child- 
hood days of his sis and him. He talked himself 
to sleep. She lingered for some time, joyfully re- 
counting his reminiscences. 

Naturally, Christy was hungry for companion- 
ship. He craved for something to replace the empti- 
ness of his life. Helen did not care for him, at least 
he was given every reason for such an assumption. 
Fred, his bosom friend, his pal, his chum, had been 
taken from him. He would think of his folks at home 
and in those moments would feel comforted. He 
didnT dare think too much about home. He would 
read the Bible and find rest. He longed for the 
moments when Nurse Stewart would take his tem- 
perature, feel his pulse and offer a few kind words 
of encouragement. His heart was filled with rap- 
ture during those moments. 

It was one of those happy moments for Christy 
when Carl exclaimed: “Say, nurse, you look like 


220 


Yank — The Crusader 


my sister, you talk like my sister, and, and, and I 
believe I am in my right mind when I say you are 
my sister.^’ 

‘‘Yes, Carl, you are right. I am your sister. I 
thought it would be best for you to grow stronger 
before I told you. You are strong now and I am 
glad you found it out, ’ ^ comforted Anna as with tears 
of joy streaming down her cheeks she petted her 
brother. 

Something evidently told Christy that Dan Cupid 
was shooting at his old heart. Every thought of her 
was one of love and affection. 

Nurse Stewart wasn’t the prettiest girl in the 
land of the living nor was she a beauty. Her fea- 
tures were pleasant, although marked by lines of 
worldly experience. The hard work of the emer- 
gency told on her. It is certain that her attraction 
was not to be found in skin deep beauty, but in her 
fine quality, her beautiful manner, her willingness, 
her thoughtfulness and cheerfulness. 

She was graceful and trim of stature. She was 
energetic, alert and very clever. She could rightly 
claim the friendship and admiration of anyone she 
came in contact with. Christy wanted to know her 
better and because he wanted to, he would. 

The doctor, followed by the little white cart, went 
through the ward, prescribing. He came to bed 
seven and told the occupant: “Son, you are improv- 
ing marvelously. Soon you will be able to return to 
your company.” This was unwelcome, welcome 
news. Unwelcome, beacuse his visit with his sister 
would come to an end. Welcome, because he could 
return to the front for the grand windup. 

“Good morning,” said the doctor in his cordial 
manner, to Christy. “How do you feel this big 
morning?” 

‘ ‘ Sir, I feel good enough to get out of bed. ’ ’ 


Routing the Hun — And Fred's Destiny 221 

^‘That^s the trouble with you boys. You work 
on a man’s sympathy and defeat his better judg- 
ment. You may get up for several hours after din- 
ner.” 

‘‘You lucky guy,” called one of the bed-ridden 
patients from across the ward. 

“Congratulations,” called Carl. 

“Damn it I I have been here six weeks and you 
haven’t been here half that time,” called another. 

Quiet was more or less maintained so long as the 
doctor was in the ward, but when he left they would 
joke and poke fun at each other. Their greatest 
sport was to kid each other about the branch of serv- 
ice they were in. Yes, and to praise their beloved 
mess sergeant. However, the adjectives they used 
sounded rather out of place for parlor reading. Draw- 
ing of ridiculous cartoons formed a part in the day’s 
activities. 

A little Belgian girl came in with the American 
edition of one of the large dailies. The success of 
our armies, the rumored surrender of Austria, the 
news of Germany’s readiness to consent to the Al- 
lies’ terms gave the men a renewed eagerness to 
return to the front. 

Christy ate his dinner without tasting a bite. He 
slipped on his overcoat and walked over to Carl’s 
side. 

“Christy, you are lucky. I hope to be up soon. 
I hope to get up in time to go back to the company 
with you.” 

“I hope so, too. We must stick together from 
now on.” 

“I am for it,” said Carl. 

“Boy, you called me lucky, but I am not half as 
much so as you are,” said Christy. 

“What do you mean?” 


222 


Yank — The Crusader 


‘^You have such a good sister. Boy, I am ad- 
mitting that I have been jealous of you. She cer- 
tainly pays particular attention to you. You know, 
Carl, I love her,^^ blushed Christy. 

Smiling, Carl lifted his head and looked his friend 
straight in the eyes. ‘ ‘ She is some girl. I wish you 
success, old kid.^^ 

Christy bowed his head and walked away. In- 
stinctively he walked out onto the porch to satisfy 
his longing for the big outdoors. He was just in 
time to see a long Eed Cross train pull into the hos- 
pital center. A number of buglers played Assem- 
bly. From every door came men carrying litters 
to the train, where they unloaded the mutilated 
bodies and took them to different wards. Two or 
three such trains with ten or twelve coaches pulled 
in every day. 

Christy’s mind drifted over his multiplicity of 
troubles. He would talk to himself, sometimes out 
loud. He would say, ‘‘She is such a good girl. I 
can’t believe it.” Then he could see Fred with the 
bloody Hun’s bayonet sticking through him. Even 
now he seemed to care for Helen. He longed for 
something in his life that was missing. A companion 
to share his abundance of life, some one to confide 
in, someone to plan with. 

Christy was fatigued so he went back to his bed, 
stopping long enough at Carl’s bed to say: “Old 
boy, it won’t be long until we return to our com- 
pany. ’ ’ 

“You are right, but you must take care of your- 
self.” 

“I sure love that girl,” said Christy to himself. 
‘ ‘ Gee 1 1 am sorry Carl ever told that story. ’ ’ He re- 
membered the story in the good book — the story of 
the woman who was accused and about to be stoned 
by her accusers. They asked the Great Teacher, 


Routing the Hun — And Fred's Destiny 223 

^‘Wliat shall we do with this woman? Christ an- 
swered, ‘‘Let he who is without sin cast the first 
stone. No one moved as Jesus told her: “Nor do 
I accuse thee; go thy way and sin no more.^^ This 
picture on his mind, Christy fell asleep like a babe 
in a cradle. 

The next day Carl was permitted to get up. 
Nurse Stewart managed to get relieved. The three 
spent the afternoon in a quiet place where they 
could be alone. 

Carl started: “I feel fine, but being in bed so 
long has weakened me.’^ 

“Yes, and brother I have a suspicion the batter- 
ing you received has something to do with your 
weakness. ’ ’ 

That afternoon a new truth brightened the lives 
of the boys. They found something in common was 
drawing them closer together. 

A fight was started in Christy. The past of the 
girl he loved formed a barrier against his ambition. 
Not only from his point of view, but Anna had char- 
acter enough not to encourage Christy, although that 
same morning she confided in Carl : “He is the only 
man I truly admire and love.’^ 

Carl ^s fondest hope had come true — he had found 
his sister. Christy was dazed by the happenings of 
the past month — Fredas death, his disappointment 
in Helen, the barrier of Anna’s past. 

The dawn of peace lighted the world. The allied 
success encouraged Christy to keep strength and 
fight the manifold bruises of his heart. His strong 
smile, his clean thought, his words of good cheer 
endeared him to everyone he met. 


CHAPTER XX 

THE ARMISTICE 

Four years of bloodshed and devastation, car- 
nage and pillage upon the frontiers of France, Italy, 
Belgium and the Eastern Front; four years of war 
involving most of the nations of the world; four 
years of untold suffering under the reign of the war 
god, had brought the world to look upon the grim 
business as a regular part of its activities. 

Four years of fighting on the battlefields had 
meant as many years of prayer for peace by the 
folks at home. 

November 11th the world was overjoyed by the 
news of the sudden death of the cruel hearted, cold, 
uncouth, bloodthirsty war god. The goddess of 
peace ascended to the throne of the universe amid 
the cheers of celebrating peoples in a surprised and 
happy world. 

The boys at the front staged a celebration all 
their own; the war-stricken countries rejoiced; even 
our enemies heaved a sigh of relief; the homes, the 
towns, the villages, and the cities of all the nations 
received the welcome news with a demonstration 
long to be remembered. 

Peace a reality, the world could soon return to 
its normal activities. Better than all else the flower 
of the world’s manhood could again turn their at- 
tentions from the grim tasks of the battlefield and 
do about-face unashamed; they could look with ex- 
pectancy toward home and the pursuit of their life’s 
ambitions. 



ROAD NEAR CHATEAU THIERRY 













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The Armistice 


225 


Peace not only changes the status quo of the 
world at large, but it also changes the men engaged 
in the world conflict. They think of the future of 
their countries and their part in it. Why should 
they not dwell on these things? Who has a greater 
right than they? They have fought for a great cause 
and the result must not be an empty shell of ideals. 

The people at home welcome into their midst 
from the American Expeditionary Forces different 
men from those who left for ^ ‘ over there. * ’ The real 
change is that they feel their responsibility more 
than ever. 

With responsibility backed up with righteous- 
ness as their foremost principle, the Yanks will re- 
turn to their communities, leaders, inspired by noble 
and brave motives which sacrifice, and sacrifice 
alone, can compel. 

The Yanks, true to their nature as fighters, will 
fight for the ideals they know to be theirs. Although 
humble because of their hatred for boasting, they 
are strong with the strength that comes from vic- 
tory. They will give of their strength liberally to 
help make their country better. 

The Yanks return to their loved ones with a 
greater capacity for friendship and undoubtedly a 
deeper appreciation for the comforts of home. 

No hazy, hap-hazard, visionary religion will sat- 
isfy their religious nature. They have found a re- 
ligion based upon a strong foundation of righteous- 
ness, altruistic and just the simple teachings of Jesus 
Christ. True to their responsibility and strong with 
victory to back them, will the Crusaders, in their 
own way, answer the great question: ^‘What shall 
a man give in exchange for his life ? ’ ^ 

On November 11th, 1918, a new era dawned upon 
the world. The Yanks’ mind turned from thoughts 
of dying for their country to thoughts of living for 


226 


Yank — The Crusader 


their country. With vivid recollections to remind 
them of how their comrades bled and died to give 
to the world a new freedom, so will they live that 
their comrades died not in vain, but for the glory 
of all the people in the world. 

Christy and Carl were in the discharging ward 
of the hospital when the good news startled them. 
They were detained several hours because everyone 
stopped working and gave vent to their feelings. 
The usual quiet of the hospital was forgotten; 
crutches were thrown away; sick and half-sick cele- 
brated. The noise and excitement in many ways 
resembled the celebration of a football victory. 

The boys, tired of waiting for their releases, re- 
turned to their old ward to share in the hilarity of 
their mates. 

One patient expressed everybody’s sentiments 
when he said: ‘‘Men, I feel that it is another Ger- 
man trick.” 

‘ ‘ Gosh ! I sure hope it is real. Just think ! It means 
no more bullet dodging,” said another. 

“I sure wish that I could be in the States to- 
night,” yelled a fellow from the other end of the 
ward. 

“Man! Man! I am telling you that there is some- 
thing doing at home,” shouted a happy war victim 
as he let go with three loud, lusty hurrahs. 

“My gal will be expecting me home on the first 
transport,” added Skinny. 

“Yes, and guys I have a rare old picture of 
Skinny as a serious benedict, ’ ’ smiled his pard from 
across the ward. 

Cowpuncher allowed “Skinny will shore be able 
to teach his kids a heap o’ devilment.” 

“I am not kidding the bunch when I tell you that 
I am going to get married end raise a bunch of kids 
before they have another war,” promised old Texas. 


The Armistice 


227 


Hard-boiled Pete almost believed his own word 
when he said : ‘ ‘ Guys, I wish the war would last long 
enough for me to kill a few more Huns. ’ ’ 

Every man in the ward was nicknamed soon after 
he entered it. Generally the patients knew each 
other by no other names. 

Bursts of enthusiasm would break into their con- 
versations. Outside the band played ‘ ‘ Liberty Bell ^ ^ 
and all the men who were able ran to the window 
to listen. 

^^Boy, that song has a fine, big meaning just 
now,’^ said Christy. 

‘‘You are right. The crowd out there thinks so 
Gee! they are happy, added Carl. 

“So am 

“Christy, I donT know if you are or not. One 
minute you are so jubilant and the next you look so 
sad and lonesome.’’ 

‘ ‘ Carl, I am mighty glad for the tidings of peace, 
but I must admit that I get to thinking: ‘Why 
couldn’t it have ended a month ago?’ Then Fred 
would have been here.” 

The noise subsided after several hours, so the 
boys returned to the office, hoping to be released 
from the hospital. Nurse Stewart was there to greet 
them. “Are you boys ready to leave?” said she. 

“Yes, Sis.” 

“I am so happy, so overjoyed! I just can’t tell 
you how happy I am. It is all over before we part,” 
said Anna, as tears of joy bubbled forth. 

“We are happy,” said Carl, as he took advan- 
tage of the occasion to hug and kiss his own sister. 
Christy felt a bit jealous of his own friend and prom- 
ised himself a similar treat at another time. 

“Brother, you must write often and tell me all 
about everything.” 


228 


Yank — The Crusader 


The sergeant called the hoys to his desk and gave 
them their release and a note to the E. T. 0. direct- 
ing them to their company. 

Goodbye, nurse; I count it an enviable privilege 
to have met you.^’ 

‘^Goodbye, Mr. Strong; I am so glad that you 
and brother are together.’’ 

^ ^ So am I, and say, I have a favor to ask of you. ’ ’ 

^‘I’ll try to grant it.” 

‘^Will you answer my letters?” asked Christy. 

^‘Most certainly.” 

The men received two days’ rations and then 
proceeded on their way through a country blessed 
with the cessation of hostilities after four long years. 

^‘Traveling in this coach beats the old boxcar,” 
said Christy. 

^M’ll say so,” replied Carl. 

They passed through villages, towns and cities 
on their trip. They found much of interest in each. 

‘‘The little town we passed through had a queer 
way of celebrating,” said Christy. 

“You mean lighting all those candles on the town 
hall?” 

“Yes, I guess they are the only means of illumi- 
nation. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ The whole town was out but no one knew what 
to do.” 

“Yes, Carl, but it is easy to see that the people 
are happy. If some kid shouts the whole crowd 
shouts. ’ ’ 

Mistakes occur in the best regulated institutions, 
the army not excepted. The boys were sent to the 
wrong company. However, this was unknown to 
them when they decided to join in the celebration 
at Bordeaux. They managed to slip by the military 
police. They felt that this was a day of all days 
and were willing to take a chance. 


The Armistice 


229 


It was past noon November 12th; but the people 
were still wild. The wildest dreams of the wildest 
dreamer could not commence to give the demonstra- 
tion a close second. 

^‘Look, Carl, see the crippled soldiers marching 
down the street.’’ 

Men with legs cut off marched on stubs and 
hobbled on crutches; blind were led by their more 
fortunate comrades. Men disabled in many other 
ways paraded down the boulevard, some were pushed 
in armchairs; nevertheless, all were shouting and 
carrying on with their triumphant march. 

Every passerby stopped to cheer the brave war- 
riors. The hat was passed and the heroes received 
liberal donations. 

A carnival was in town. Chinese, Japanese, Por- 
tuguese, British, Italians, and soldiers from all over 
the world attended the different stunts. After 
spending beaucoup francs, the boys returned to the 
public square. 

An American band played some popular music. 
The crowd was enormous. The air was saturated 
with joy. 

‘^Boy, look at those Poilus dancing on their peg- 
legs. See that woman throwing dishes in the air. 
Good night I See the mademoiselles steal Yank’s 
cap. I guess we better ditch ours,” said Carl. 

‘‘Old Yank is at the height of his glory in that 
crowd. Those girls have him corraled and won’t 
free him,” added Christy. 

“I don’t imagine he is trying hard to get free. 
Notice the gang carrying a bunch of Poilus and 
Yanks on their shoulders.” 

The band played the national anthem of France. 
Everyone came to attention. Imagine a city square 
three blocks long and half that wide peppered with 
people. The music was beautiful and inspiring for 


230 


Yank — The Crusader 


everyone sang with such ardor and devotion that 
every foreign listener was impressed. A few min- 
utes later the Star Spangled Banner was played. 

The music ended. The crowd renewed its noisy 
celebration. The boys ate supper and then joined 
no less than a dozen disorganized raving mobs. They 
would run, then stop to dance. They would capture 
more Allies. The Japs would sing their songs. 
Frenchie, Tommie and Yank did likewise. It was a 
great jangle, but everyone was happy. 

The men in uniform were the center of attraction, 
each having three or four mademoiselles hanging 
on his arms. The foreigners couldnT parley with 
the girls; in fact the noise and confusion made the 
occasion a poor place for discussing topics wise or 
otherwise. 

The bells and the whistles were blowing all day 
and night. The time came for them to quit. The 
crowd dispersed. The boys were at a loss to know 
their destination. They were tired and couldnT 
find a place to sleep so they reported to the E. T. 0. 

The office had no record of their company being 
in that part of the country. The boys took the queue 
and acted innocent of being A. W. 0. L. They were 
retained in Bordeaux for a couple of weeks. They 
were given the pass privilege because it was easy to 
see that they were unfit for duty. 

No check was taken of them, therefore they de- 
cided to rent a room in some good French home. 
This the boys did, much to their great satisfaction. 

One afternoon after they had recuperated from 
the armistice blowout, they took a sightseeing trip 
through the old port city. 

The Opera House, built by Louis XVI, was the 
first point of interest. 

Christy said: ‘Ht is not a very imposing struc- 
ture from the outside. ’ ^ 


The Armistice 


231 


They stepped inside and were awed by the beau- 
tiful display of art. They gazed in wonder at the 
paintings on the wall. They spent some time ad- 
miring the exhibit. 

They wandered in the direction of a tall church 
steeple, which they learned to be St. MichePs tower. 
A kind lady took them through the ancient cathedral, 
explaining its architectural beauty and design. She 
led them down into the cellar, where they were in- 
troduced to a family of mummies. 

‘‘They are in a fine state of preservation,^^ said 
Christy. 

“Idl bet they are old enough to be your great- 
great grandfather,’’ added Carl. 

“They are more than five hundred years old. 
They were buried in arsenic deposits,” said the good 
madame in her broken English. 

“Even their clothes are in good shape.” 

“Yes, and you can tell where the arsenic didn’t 
touch them,” added Carl. 

‘ ‘ I wonder what they would do if they could wake 
up and see the world of today?” 

“Christy, I’ll admit that is one on me. I guess 
the young ladies would flirt with us. ’ ’ 

“You are always ready to flirt since that big 
night.” 

The boys walked down to the river on their sight- 
seeing expedition. They stood gazing at a number of 
small vessels steaming toward the ocean, when 
Christy broke a long silence by saying : ‘ ‘ Gee ! I would 
like to be on one of those boats, homeward bound. ’ ’ 

“Two of us,” approved Carl. 

A new spirit gripped the boys in its dangerous 
clutches — the spirit of unrest. A strong passion for 
home burned within them. The men retraced their 
steps toward their French home, neither having 
much to say, but both of them thinking of that day. 


232 


Yank — The Crusader 


The nights they spent with that French family 
will long be remembered, especially the first one. 
The boys and their hosts tried to make each other 
happy. They would try conversing with each other. 
Carl would start a sentence, the first two words being 
French, but invariably he would end it in English 
but through signs, gesticulations and a dictionary he 
could finally make them ^ ‘ compris. ’ ’ 

The old French custom of offering the best wine 
in the house to guests was remembered by the hosts 
on this occasion. 

Carl allowed Monsieur to fill his glass, but Christy 
did not. The hosts insisted, but of no avail. They 
were almost insulted and provoked at their guest. 

Poor Christy felt embarrassed and tried to explain 
by saying, ‘‘Zig Zag,’’ and then going through the 
motions of a drunken man. They still insisted he 
drink a little but he said ‘‘Malade,” and tried to 
show them it would give him a headache. ‘ ‘I’ll have 
some water.” 

“ Je ne compris,” said Monsieur. 

“De leau is what you want,” volunteered Carl. 

“De leau,” ridiculed the French hostess, pucker- 
ing up her lips and squinting her eye in disgust, try- 
ing to explain by her actions that water was only 
fit to wash in and too filthy to drink. 

They clicked their glasses, offering toasts to the 
victorious Allies. Christy managed to drink his 
water, only to be convinced that she was right. 

The fire of enthusiasm had not disappeared. They 
spent most of the evening complimenting each other. 
Christy would say, “Francais et L’Amerique kam- 
erade. ’ ’ They would all join in on a chorus of ‘ ‘ Ah, 
Oui,” which means “Yes.” “L’Amerique tres bon,” 
said the host. The remainder of the evening was 
spent in learning French. The boys would point to 
their eyes, ears, noses and so forth, while their happy 


The Armistice 


233 


and interested teachers would give them the French 
pronunciation. 

The first lesson over, the boys retired to their 
room with an extensive French vocabulary of almost 
fifteen words. They were content to converse in 
English for the rest of the evening. 

The comfortable looking bed was the big attrac- 
tion; very little time passed before the boys hopped 
in. Carl laughingly exclaimed: claim this is 

sure some way to soldier.’’ 

^‘It isn’t hard to take,” said Christy. 

They laughed over the events of the evening and 
kidded each other about their ability to ‘‘Parley 
Francaise.” 

The next day after a prolonged stay in bed the 
men crawled out to find the sun well up and their 
watches at ten. 

Christy decided that he needed a hath so he made 
a brave attempt to explain his wants. “Compris, 
Compris,” assured the good madame. She then 
gave her husband some instructions, who with the 
hoys walked down to a barn where they hitched an 
old horse to a squeaky two-wheeled cart. 

The hoys were under the impression that they 
were being taken to a bath house. They were puz- 
zled when the rig drove up to an old stone building 
where they loaded it with hay. 

“Ha, ha, this is a good one on you, Christy. I’ll 
bet they think you want to sleep on hay.” 

“I guess not.” 

“Eeally, I believe the old fellow wants to sell 
you the horse.” 

“I guess he thought I would not buy him unless 
the old animal was fattened up a bit.” 

“Where are you going to get all the money?” 
asked Carl. 


234 


Yank — The Crusader 


^‘Really, I am wondering what kind of a scrape 
I have worked myself into.’^ 

Carl contended to the last that the good folks 
were trying to sell Christy the horse. Christy had 
a slight suspicion that Carl was all wrong and he 
was right, because when they returned Christy was 
led to an open back porch, where he saw a big tin 
bath tub, in the middle of which was a charcoal stove 
industriously heating water. 

Christy stripped, jumped in and hastily jumped 
out, then jumped around some more to keep warm, as 
the cold wind was blowing from several directions; 
he then jumped into his clothes when he noticed that 
across the way from him was a fair and amused 
young damsel enjoying his jumping monologue. 

‘‘Froid, beaucoup froid,’’ said the madame of 
the house as he came downstairs. He understood her 
to mean the bath was cold, after she gave a few imi- 
tations of a cold person. He replied, ‘ ‘ Oui, ’ ’ but let 
her believe it was pleasant. 

* m m * * 

Over the ocean and many more miles westward, 
in a little ranch house sat a mother by a big fireplace. 
She was reading the last letter from her son. 

Mrs. Sheldon bravely attempted to take her son’s 
death in the Utopian spirit he suggested, but way 
down deep in her heart it hurt. It pained her but 
silently she bore her sorrow. 

She wrote the following note to Molly: 

Dear Molly: November 16, 1918. 

Fred has written his last letter. He wrote it for 
you and me. Come over and read it. 

It will be a comfort to have you stay with us for 
a while. If Fred were alive he would desire as much. 

Lovingly, 

Mrs. Sheldon. 


The Armistice 


235 


Jim rode the best bronc on the ranch. It wasn^t 
long before he dismounted and handed the note to 
Molly. She opened it, read and re-read it. She 
thanked Jim for his kindness and hastily turned 
away from him in an attempt to hide her tears. 

‘‘Mother! Mother!’’ cried Molly, “I don’t believe 
it! I can’t believe it! It can’t be true! Mother please 
read this note for me.” 

Mother McByde read the first words. Her eyes 
filled before she finished the letter. She could hardly 
see the signature. 

Daughter and mother exchanged some words of 
comfort, when suddenly Molly ran away from her 
mother and staggered blindly down the trail that led 
to her favorite spot. 

She wasn’t thinking; she couldn’t think. She 
only brooded over her terrible loss. She desperately 
threw herself over the stump on which several years 
before Fred carved their initials in a heart. There 
she stayed until, utterly worn out from weeping, she 
fell asleep. 

She dreamed of her lover, her hero, her all, on 
the battlefield. She saw him reading her letters. She 
saw them make him proud of her. She saw them 
encourage him and give him the heart to do won- 
derful deeds of bravery. She saw him in the fight, 
laughing at danger. She saw red blood gushing from 
his wounds, the kind of red blood that is possessed 
only by his kind; and then she saw him on the cold 
ground — dead ! 

The most beautiful part of her dream had just 
begun. She saw him ascend the golden steps and 
enter the pearly gates of a new and more abundant 
life. She saw herself at the bottom of those stairs 
claiming admittance through the pearly gates. An 
angel descended and told her: “Dear child of the 


236 


Yank — The Crusader 


world, service, not Christian thought, will gain you 
the reward you desire.^’ 

Now Molly saw herself as a Sister of Charity. 
She saw herself ministering unto the sick and needy. 
Each deed of kindness seemed to bring her closer 
to her Fred, her lover, who died that humanity might 
live. 

The hours were quietly stealing away. The black 
of the night faded into the gray of the early morn- 
ing. The warm sun streaming over her awakened 
her from her dream. She rubbed her eyes and after 
a short reverie hastened to the Sheldon ranch. 

The buildings on the ranch stood out upon the 
horizon long before she reached them. Mrs. Shel- 
don was waiting in the doorway to receive her son^s 
sweetheart. They clasped each other in a loving 
embrace. 

Molly, dear girl!^’ said Mrs. Sheldon as she 
handed the Girl of the Golden West that last letter. 

Dear Maw: 

I reckon that you will be happy to know I have 
received Molly ^s and your last letter. They just 
naturally make me feel brighter. 

Today I was selected to lead a bunch of fellers 
on an advance party into no-man ’s-land. Christy is 
going with me. Just want to let you know that V\\ 
do my best to make you proud of me. 

Lately my old mind wonT behave. The wander- 
lust seems to chaian me all day when there isn T any 
other excitement. 

Maw, when you get this letter you will know that 
I have gone to the happy hunting grounds, where 
I allow my wanderlust will be satisfied. 

Nowadays brother can take care of the ranch. 
Maw, I know you and Molly wouldn’t have me any 
other place. 


The Armistice 


237 


Yes, and I have been tryin hard to gain the good 
will of Peter. 

There ain’t a heap of paper so you and Molly 
will have to share this letter. Be brave. 

Lovingly, 

Your Soldier Fred. 

P. S. — I allow that you won’t make a fuss if I 
get killed, because we will meet in a better land. 

Molly’s countenance lighted up as she thought 
of her new mission in life. Until now the fatigue of 
the ride, the brooding of the night before, left their 
prints on her face; now the radiance of the new life 
shone forth as she began to feel the reality of her 
dream. 

Her dream pictured her as a Sister of Charity 
doing acts of kindness which drew her closer to her 
lover. It was there that she decided. She confided : 
^‘Mrs. Sheldon, no one can take his place. I go from 
mother and you to become a Sister. ’ ’ 

^‘Dear girl, I am glad you choose to seek your 
contentment in such a noble cause.” 

Years passed and, true to her dream. Sister Molly 
felt a closer relationship to her lover for each deed 
of kindness, each touch of charity, and each act of 
mercy she offered the world. 


CHAPTER XXI 

THE HOME-COMING OF THE CRUSADERS WHO FOUGHT 
AND WON 

‘‘Hurrahl^^ hollered Carl at the top of his voice 
as he came out of the orderly room. ‘ ‘ Hey, Christy, 
we are to join the Sunshine Division. It is ordered 
home.’’ 

‘‘We are sure in great luck,” smiled Christy. 

“Gee! I can’t wait,” added Carl. 

“France is all right for the Frenchman, England 
for the Englishman, and believe me there is only 
one place for an American. That is the good old 
U. S. A.,” said Christy. 

“We agree on that,” put in his comrade. 

The men were sent to the machine gun battalions 
of the Fortieth Division, which were billeted in small 
towns outside of Bordeaux. 

They were confident that they would be on the 
ocean in ten days or less ; however they were doomed 
to disappointment. One week passed, two weeks, a 
month; then finally at the end of two long, rainy, 
unexciting months they marched into the embarka- 
tion camp. 

The men’s hopes were again raised. Once more 
they were impressed with the idea that it would only 
be a matter of a few hours until they would be cross- 
ing the gang plank. Joy again ruled their souls. 

Their spirits were the highest when the order 
came for them to march to the port of embarkation. 
They crossed the gang plank into a small river-going 
barge. Dame Rumor had the men believing that 


239 


The Home-Coming of the Crusaders 

they were going to sail down to the mouth of the 
Gironde and transfer into an ocean-going liner. 

The river boat docked at a small camp about 
half way to the ocean. Gloom took possession of the 
men as they marched off the tugs and not a transport 
in sight. Their feelings were a bit ruffled as they 
marched through a crowd of Yanks whose favorite 
sport was to rub it in. 

They called to the machine gunners: 

^‘You will sure look good in a suit of fatigues.’^ 
‘^Four more weeks on bread and water. 

^ ^ There is a lot of lumber for you boys to handle. ^ ^ 
‘‘Ye who enter here leave all hope behind.’^ 
Showered with such comment, the fellows went 
to their barracks wondering, “Who is the joke onT’ 
The first couple of days they tried to conceal their 
bitter disappointment. Vim and vigor characterized 
their arguments in favor of their leaving before the 
eight thousand men who had already been waiting 
from two to nine weeks. 

Frequently groups of men would be engaged in 
a conversation justifying their special reasons for 
going home tout de suite! The farmer, the trades- 
man, the professional man and the business man 
alike could put up a very forceful argument why 
Uncle Sam should send him home first. 

Days passed, weeks passed and even another 
month. “Oh, Death! Where is thy sting T’ 

The first few days almost any kind of a tub sail- 
ing on the river would cause excitement. Even Dame 
Rumor would get to work. Each day increased the 
men^s desire to get home until they were forced to 
say: “I^d go home in a row boat if given the oppor- 
tunity. ’ ’ 

Hour after hour the khaki clad men would line 
the river bank. They were looking out across the 
Gironde but it wasn T the other side they saw. They 


240 


Yank — The Crusader 


were day dreaming; visions of home made their 
dreams a pleasure. 

Once in a while a sail or cloud of smoke would 
appear on the horizon. The men would take out 
their field glass and look with expectancy for the 
Stars and Stripes. 

Day after day, week after week they watched 
for their transport. They heard many good and bad 
rumors until they became immune. The boats lost 
their attraction for them and the sight of one was 
considered a dreaded nuisance. 

A transport docked. It took some of the troops 
back to God’s country. The lucky boys were watched 
by envious eyes. 

‘‘Christy, I don’t begrudge those fellows their 
trip, but oh, how I wish I was with them.” 

“Well, some day it will be our turn,” said 
Christy as he turned on his heel, unable to endure 
more torture from the scene. 

The tables turned. The machine gunners were 
feeling mighty ornery when more troops marched 
into camp. 111 Fate. They peddled all the gloom 
that their minds could invent to the unfortunate 
engineers. 

The hours were many, long, and wearisome, and 
there was nothing to do. The men would often 
gather around the big stove and relate some of their 
army adventures. Being casuals and coming from 
ditferent divisions, they swapped some very interest- 
ing “dope.” 

Private Mel, who had been a prisoner in Germany, 
was the first to tell his experience. 

Said he: “Boys, I was sure glad to get out of 
Germany.” 

“How did the Germans treat you?” 

“Bad, very bad.” 

“Did you see many American prisoners?” 


241 


The Home-Coming of the Crusaders 

^^Only a few.’^ 

‘^Did they ill-treat youT^ 

^ ‘ The officers abused everyone ; the soldiers from 
the front were more friendly.’’ 

^‘How did the Germans feel toward the Amer- 
icans?” 

‘^At first they laughed at us. Then they were 
amazed at our power and were unable to understand 
why we came to fight them.” 

‘‘How did they treat the French?” 

“They consider the French their natural foes. 
They make them work hard and feed them poorly. ’ ’ 

“How do they treat Tommy?” 

“They hate him and abuse him. They say Eng- 
land entered the war for selfish reasons.” 

“How did the Germans act when the Armistice 
was signed?” 

‘ ‘ They danced, they freed us prisoners, they cele- 
brated. They were happy the war was over. ’ ’ 

“Did the German people suffer?” 

“Indeed. The soldiers were well cared for, the 
people were not.” 

“What did they eat?” 

“A nasty smelling black bread, potatoes and 
vegetables, corn meal and sometimes horseflesh or 
fish.” 

“How did the German children stand the starva- 
tion period?” 

“Some sections of the country better than 
others.” 

“Even our enemies celebrated the Armistice,” 
said Christy. 

“Yes, but not because we won,” added Mel. 

Carl added to the fireside yarns by telling the 
story of Sergeant Sheldon. 

Corporal Kneedler told this story. Said he: “I 
never realized how France had suffered until the 


242 


Yank — The Crusader 


night of the Armistice. Fellows, we were billeted 
in a small town which the Germans had just evac- 
uated. The French folks did not celebrate and for 
some reason I couldn’t rest until I found out the 
cause. 

^‘ Well, fellows, I asked a French lady of prob- 
ably fifty years, ‘Madame, why don’t you celebrate?’ 
Said she: ‘Good friend, for you I am glad because 
you can return to your home, but for me it has come 
too late. I have lost my all, my three brothers, my 
three sons and husband.” 

The bugler blew “taps” and the party parted 
for their bunks. 

The day finally came when the boys crossed the 
bridge whose other end was America. The men had 
met with so many disappointments that nothing 
would surprise them. Yes, they were happy but 
not to the noise-making degree. 

It was on the fifth day of the voyage a commotion 
was started by a sailor who called out, ‘ ‘ Submarines ! 
Submarines ! ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Sure enough, there are four of them, ’ ’ said Carl. 

“Yes, and believe me, I am glad they are not up 
to their old tricks,” added Christy. 

“So am I.” 

“It is a wonderful sight to see them ride the 
waves as they maneuver around us. ’ ’ 

“Yes, and Christy, I would like to ride across in 
one of them,” said Carl. 

“Boy, you have never been sea-sick,” added a 
fellow who had. 

The last morning on the boat was a most welcome 
one. Bands came out to greet the men home. The 
Statue of Liberty never looked so good. Many boys 
told her, “Old girl, if you want to see me again 
you will have to do about-face.” The skyline of 
New York stood out with a greater majesty than 


243 


The Home-Coming of the Crusaders 

ever. The men flattered their country with compli- 
ments which came from the heart. 

“Here comes the tug to pull us in/’ said an eager 
Yank. 

“Look over there; the Eed Cross women are on 
the job. Gee ! They look so good waving Old Glory, ’ ’ 
said Christy. 

“See those Salvation Army women with their 
doughnuts. They deserve all kinds of praise,” said 
Carl. 

“Carl, you and I are on baggage detail,” said 
Christy. 

“Good! That means we will have a chance to 
take a good look at the big city.” 

The men had just finished loading the baggage 
when the Kai serin Auguste Victoria steamed into 
the Hudson. She was the first German boat turned 
over to the Americans. 

The next day the men were entertained in New 
York City by the Eocky Mountain Club. Among 
the many things of interest, one was the most em- 
inent. The ride up Eiverside Drive along the Hud- 
son where lay anchored Uncle Sam’s Grand Fleet. 

“I never realized our navy was so large,” said 
Carl. 

“Nor I.” 

“It is a wonderful sight.” 

Many “goodbyes” w:ere in order as trainload 
after trainload of troops left for demobilization 
camps in all parts of the country. As usual, the Eed 
Cross women were on the job at all the stations, feed- 
ing the boys with the best that money could buy. 

# * # 

A reformation was taking place in a certain young 
lady, while Christy was “Over There” waiting his 
turn to cross the gang pank. 


244 


Yank — The Crusader 


The Honorable Harvey had forced his plea for 
her hand and found that he was playing a losing 
game. 

She was thinking about someone who was some- 
wherc-in-France. The war ended and she was happy. 
She planned for his return. She desired a high 
position for him; already she was thinking how she 
could help him fight lifers battle. 

‘‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder.’^ No 
word from him made her realize her interest in him. 
She watched the papers, hoping to find something 
about Christy. She longed for his safe return. 

Meanwhile Christy was corresponding with Carl’s 
sister. He was looking forward to the day when he 
could go and come, when and where he pleased. He 
would go to her. 

The day came when the boys received their honor- 
able discharges. Christy received a letter from Anna 
which discouraged his attempt to win the nurse. 
She told the story of her past. She admitted that 
he was the man of her dreams but emphasized that 
past sins carry with them a sting through all the 
days. 

Christy found it hard to see things Anna’s way, 
but she was right. She was honorable and brave. 

After all, it wasn’t so hard for him when he re- 
turned home and received the open arm welcome of 
the sweetheart of his youth and a warm and loving 
hug. 

There are two sides to the story of war, the good 
and the bad. The acts of bravery as noble as that 
of Fred’s can only be called good. The lessons of 
unselfishness that were taught on the front, the won- 
derful deeds of mercy, the noble friendships formed 
are not only good but magnificent. 

The birth of a new and purer democracy in our 
country has been caused by the war; because some- 


The Home-Coming of the Crusaders 245 

where-in-France tlie sons of the east, west, north and 
south bled liberally for the great cause of Humanity. 

The pride of each citizen of the United States is 
increased as he thinks of the victory that has been 
won over barbarism and autocracy. A new era has 
arrived with the high standard of “Peacetime 
Patriotism’’ challenging each man, woman and 
child to live up to the best that is in them, that the 
traditions of our forefathers and the flag they fought 
for, “Old Glory,” may always protect the best land 
in all the world. 

# 

It was supper time in the Strong home. Christy 
walked in and surprised his folks. He lovingly em- 
braced and kissed his mother and at the same time 
grasped his father ’s hand in a hearty hand clasp. 

Yes, there were more silver hairs sprinkled among 
the gold. The charm of mother love in her face 
shone forth with new and radiant luster as they un- 
doubtedly enjoyed the happiest and supreme moment 
in their lives. 


END 



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